Kathrynn's Tale
by RenaKitten
Summary: A snarky and morally ambiguous thief’s rather reluctant journey. Later chapters veer a bit from the OC. KC X Bishop in a non-romantic romance.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 1

I paused outside the tavern door. "You sure this is the right place?"

The horned woman standing next to me stepped forward. "Yup, The Sunken Flagon, this is where you wanted to go right?"

Looking around I gave a shrug. The building did look sort of… out of place for the rest of Neverwinter. There were flowers outside of the windows of all things… flowers! The other buildings all had the drab worn look I've come to expect from a port town, with the wind and water constantly battering at their walls. This place looked fresh and almost whimsical compared to the rest, its walls decorated in a cheery red.

"Well," Neeshka said helpfully, "you did say your uncle was a half elf right?"

"Come on lass, ya jes gonna stand out here in the dark, or are we gonna get some ale?"

Shooting the stocky dwarf next to me a look of amusement I headed to the door and slipped inside. A blast of warm air hit me as soon as I was in, taking the chill of the night off my skin. Glancing around, I noticed there weren't very many people in there, despite the evening being still young.

Khelgar headed to the bar with more speed that I would expect from one so short and Neeshka promptly headed to the fire to warm up. I hung back by the door for a moment, wary from all the recent attacks on us. A soft voice floated over my shoulder. "Kathrynn, are you sure this is where you want to start? I really feel we should go to Neverwinter Woods and find the elders of the circle and ask for their advice."

I closed my eyes to hide my irritation. Elanee had not been traveling with us long, but long enough to be getting on my nerves with her constant passive aggressive statements_. I swear, we should have dumped this girl in the woods, no one would ever know…_I thought briefly as I tried to swallow my annoyance enough to speak with her. "Yes Elanee, I'm sure this is where I want to start." _Oops, was that sarcasm slipping in?_ _I know she is just trying to help, but does she have to be so bleedn' annoying about it?_ After a deep breath I was able to continue a bit more kindly. "Why don't you see about getting us some rooms for the night? Even if we can't find what we need, we will at least be able to sleep in a bed for once."

Elanee wandered over to an older man behind the bar, muttering something about the peace and solitude of the forest compared to the city. _Oh, that's it. Next log large enough I come across, the elf is getting stuffed in._ Amused by that image, I continued my scan of the tavern. A few patrons were littered among the tables, some laughing loudly with their friends, others quietly nursing their drinks. My eyes flicked to the final corner and I noticed with surprise a man that I initially wrote off as a drunk was staring keenly at me. Even from across the room I could tell he was scruffy, although not in a bad way. He was even sort of cute in an 'I've been on the road for a week and haven't washed' sort of way.

Sometime during my appraisal of him, he was taking his own of me. Eyes rudely scanning my form, he took no pains to hide that his gaze lingered on my chest. When his eyes finally met mine, they held a challenge. _So that's how you want to play this hmm?_ Meeting his look with a bold one of my own, I held my arms out to my sides and made a slow spin, making sure to pause long enough that he could get a good view of all of me. Finally completely the circle, I gazed back at him, one brow quirked in amusement. A calculating look flickered over his face before being replaced by a mocking smirk.

With a snort, I shot him a dismissive glance and looked around for someone who didn't look like a patron. Normally I would look for the only sober person in the room, but from things I hear Daeghun say in the past, I wasn't sure that would be the best indicator. Spotting a worn looking man with slightly pointed ears and a dirty towel over his shoulder by the bar, I decided to start with him.

As I walked up to him, he looked at me and pasted a fake proprietor's smile on his face. "Well, now, what can I do for you? Bit of venom for the belly, perhaps? Or maybe a tankard or two to shave the edge off your day?"

I shook my head. Tired as I was, I wasn't in any mood for small talk. "Who's the owner of this inn?"

A wary look crossed his eyes, "You mean old Duncan? Well now, if you're looking to collect on some debt, I'll tell you that he's a drunk and he hasn't got two coppers to his name."

"I'm his niece, I'm related." _By the Gods, he is the exact opposite of Daeghun._

"Niece? And what branch of the family tree did you fall off of?"

I sighed. I hoped he isn't planning on being cagy with me the entire conversation. "Daeghun sent me." _There, straight and to the point. Hopefully he gets the hint._

"Daeghun, eh? So the time's come, has it? Troubles chasing on your heels, and you barely know why... Suppose Daeghun told you less than half of what you need to know, then sent you packing. Don't take it hard, done it to me twice in my life, all for good reason. I can probably guess why you're here, but why don't you go ahead and tell me anyway."

"Daeghun told me to seek you out, that you might know something of the silver shards recovered from the battle at West Harbor."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, did he? Nothing more than I did years ago, plain silver near as we could tell, you and those shards were all that were left of that West Harbor battle."

An older man behind the bar spoke up in slight confusion. "Duncan... I thought you said that shard was magic - didn't you?"

Duncan frowned at him._ "Trace _of an enchantment on it is what that eel Sand said, but nothing of importance. Probably residue from demon's fire, or maybe wizard magic."

"Demon's fire? Sounds important to me," the barkeep muttered.

"And that, Sal, is why you are cleaning tables, and I _own_ this place. Those shards were magic, yes, a "trace," but again, it was Sand, and he's a fool." Duncan's tone changed suddenly from irritated to one of forced casualness. "Anyway, barely worth mentioning - more sentimental value than anything else. That really why you came all this way, to hear about your mother?"

I knew he was trying to throw me off, but still I couldn't help but ask, "My mother? What does she have to do with this?"

"Yeah, your mother - Esmerelle, since you were asking about the shards. What, Daeghun still keeping that inside? It's a wonder he doesn't crack down the middle."

_Ain't that the truth_, I though while asking aloud, "How are the shards and my mother related?"

Duncan heaved a large sigh. "I think you might have been better off being raised by wolves if Daeghun didn't share that. There's a lot I'm sure he never told you, but listen - it's his place to tell you, not mine."

Seeing that he wouldn't be giving me any more information right away, I switched subjects. "Can I see the other shard?"

Thinking he would need to go get it, I was surprised when he pulled it out of his pocket. "Here... I've always kept it close, for some reason, didn't want to leave it out of my sight. Seemed unremarkable, but I find that sometimes time will tell. Had Sand examine it a long time ago, but he turned up nothing."

"Who's Sand?"

"A hedge wizard, somehow set up a shop in the Docks, but it's telling enough he can only run a business down here in the crack of Neverwinter. Got a dry wit, and he'll always rub you the wrong way, so his name's well-chosen." He gave a shrug. "Still, I suppose I trust him enough, and having a wizard close by certainly tends to keep fools from causing too much trouble. Anyways, me and Daeghun took the shard to him, back when he lived in the Merchant Quarter. Before his run of bad luck. But he couldn't get much from it, just faint traces."

"Can he look at these again?"

Doubt crept into his voice. "Well, it's worth a shot - but don't pay him any coin in advance, that's all I'll say. In fact, that viper would be best o-"

Duncan was suddenly cut off when a silky voice came from the behind me. "Ah... it seems I have arrived just in time to deflect the usual barrage of slander from the local innkeeper."

"Sand." Duncan's voice radiated dislike, and… was that an edge of competition I heard?

"Yes, it is good to see you're still sober enough to recognize me, Duncan - " the elf paused and sniffed the air, "past the stale beer, vinegar, faint sweat, failed aspirations, unwashed tunic... I thought perhaps you had already had one tankard too many for the day. But..." again he paused as if scenting the air. He turned towards me with a slightly curious look on his face. "Why, your guest here has the smell of a Harborman about them. Faint, but there."

I looked at him for a moment, trying to decide if I should be offended or not, when he continued. "I thought Duncan was keeping company too good for him, now I see I was right. Duncan, you could learn a few things from your guest."

Duncan gave a grunt. "Still passing off those two-copper fair weather charms to the locals, Sand?"

"You have no appreciation for my talents - and after all I've done for you." Sand sniffed disdainfully, "To think you could survive a fortnight without my ale purgative - why, you would be buried in the tombs with the rest of the Neverwinter traitors - a betrayer of barkeepers _everywhere._ But enough about you and your "adventurous" exploits on the tavern floor. I heard my name mentioned, and oddly enough, almost in a tone that suggested I could help." I couldn't help but notice that towards the end, the elf sounded almost… intrigued.

Duncan gestured at me, "This here's kin..." I rolled my eyes, irritated at the introduction.

He looked at me, an amused smile on his face. "I'm not really seeing the family resemblance."

Ignoring him, Duncan continued, "and we need your help concerning the shard. Both of them."

"Shard?" Sand began to tap one elegant finger against his chin. "That chunk of _silver _you showed me so long ago? I do hope you're not going to try to pawn it to me again, I am no longer interested. Besides, as I _recall _you said the piece of junk had sentimental value - " I stopped listening to them bicker at this point, having had enough of that on the boat from Neeshka and Khelgar. Turning my attention to the newcomer, I gave him a stealthy once over.

He was tall and wiry, even for an elf. He couldn't have weighed more than twenty pounds more than me and considering most people called me petite, that was saying a lot. He wore mages robes that while somewhat drab, did actually work nicely with his slightly bluish skin tone. _Hmm, must be a moon elf,_ I thought, taking in his green eyes and long brown hair. He appeared to be about the same age as my foster father, Daeghun, so I put him at somewhere around four hundred years. While not young, he was still in his prime, for an elf anyways.

Tuning back in, I heard confusion in Sand's voice. "Are you sure these are the same shards? The power in them... why, it's definitely stronger than last time... much stronger."

Clearly irritated, Duncan shot back, "Oh, so _now _they're magical? I'm not paying you for _two _failed divinations, you charlatan."

Confused, I cut in. "How could you not sense the magic in those shards? I can tell just by holding them."

"Because he's incompetent?" snorted Duncan.

After giving me an approving glance, he turned to glare at my uncle. "Duncan, the more I speak to your kin here, it's evident where the sense in the family went." Looking back at me, he continued in a more honest tone. "Since you seem to have been given all the brains of the family, I'll be honest with you - I don't know. But I do know the shards did not have the same strength the first time I examined them. There could be something about you that causes them to resonate - but I have no idea why that would be."

Once again turning to Duncan, he gave him a contemptuous look. "And it's not a _matter_ of divination, you one-tankard drunk. There is something about these shards - without knowing their history, even my considerable talents cannot unlock their mysteries."

Rubbing at the headache starting to pound at my temples, I broke in. "Look, stop arguing. We need to focus on the problem at hand."

Having the grace to look slightly ashamed, Duncan managed to squeeze out am apology. Sort of. "You're right. Sorry I pointed out the fact you were a charlatan, Sand."

"And I didn't mean to bring up your excessive drinking, Duncan, and your long list of failed aspirations." I quickly smothered a snort as he continued. "It was uncalled for, especially when the mystery of these shards is before us. Taking them to any other wizard in town would be useless until we learn more about their past... you need a sage and you need them examined quickly, so..."

_And once again I hit a wall._ "So who would know the shard's history?"

Sand shrugged and sounded doubtful. "You could _try _and speak to Aldanon... but I don't think you'd have much luck reaching him, the Blacklake District is closed down. Aldanon lives in the Blacklake District, you see - and now he's trapped there. The Watch has it locked tight, no one going in or out, no messages in or out, even for the nobles that used to live there... quite cryptic, really."

"Why?" I asked with a sigh. _Oh look there's another damnedable wall. Maybe if I find two more, the world with just leave me alone._

"I heard about that... Lord Dalren was killed, wasn't he? I've heard rumors, but no official word of what happened."

"As have I. Not only are the Watch not talking about it, but they even called in the Cloaktower mages to investigate... which means sorcery - or demons - were at work."

Duncan scoffed at that idea. "Demons? Closest I've ever come to demons is Daeghun's tales about the battles down south, near West Harbor... when there was that trouble with the King of Shadows."

Deciding to find out later about this King of shadows, I jumped to the point. "So how do I meet with Aldanon?"

"Well, if you're not a member of the Watch... or know a secret route into Blacklake, then you're out of luck."

Duncan thought about that for a moment. "Wait... Watch or secret route... not bad ideas, either way the coin lands."

Sand continued almost as thinking out loud. "Well, there's Marshal Cormick, he's currently at the City Watch Post, and I know he's in bad need of an extra swordarm down at the Docks."

"And if I don't want to join the Watch?" _I really don't see myself as a rank and file sorta gal_, I thought to my self. _Let's shoot for option two._

Reluctantly Duncan broke in with the other route. "Then you need to find another route into the Blacklake District, and that means dealing with other folks that try to control the Docks - Moire and her gang."

Heaving yet another sigh, I weighed my options. _Rank and file or dagger in the back? Hmm, I have no problem with a dagger in the back (gods know I've done that enough in the past), but I don't like doing it on anyone's orders. At least maybe with the Watch I can scout some marks while I'm at it._ With a sigh, I signaled the bartender to draw me an ale and settled in for a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 2

Crimson blood dripped off my rapier and made a wet slash on the dirt as I knelt to clean it off on the dead orc at my feet. "Next time _Captain_ Brelaina sends you out to the middle of no where, can she at least make sure our targets have some coin? When we find this emissary, he had better pay us well!" I heard a voice whine at me.

Looking over my shoulder as Neeshka efficiently stripped the dead, her tail lashing in annoyance as she found nothing other than rags and rusty weapons on the bodies of the orcs strewn around us. Pitching my voice high, I looked at her sternly. "Neeshka, this is not about coin, this is about the good of all the creatures of this world."

The demon girl made a gagging noise before snickering. "Oh Gods, you sound just like her. By the way, have I mentioned yet how happy I am that we left her back at the inn? I swear, one more high and mighty comment from her and I was going to stick a dagger in her ribs!"

Smothering my own snicker I nodded. "Come now Neeshka. I'm sure she would have been useful out here with us."

"Yeah, for catching arrows," she retorted with an evil glee in her eyes.

As much as I didn't want to, I couldn't help but agree with her. There was something about that druid that made me want to feed her to the next beastie we came across. _Of course with my luck, it would be a friend of hers. I wonder if druids have much contact with basilisks... _

I was pulled from my musings by a loud grunt and a steady stream of dwarven curses. It appeared that Khelgar had finally freed his axe from the skull of the orc he last buried it in and had fallen on his rear for his efforts.

Getting up from the dirt with a disgusted growl, he looked around at the bodies surrounding them. The annoyed look on his face quickly changed to one of delight. "Well, that was entertaining. Looks like we caught them by surprise for a change." Hearing a noise behind him, we all glanced up to see another wave of orcs bearing down on us. A gleeful smile stretched over his face. "Just like orcs - they don't know when to quit."

Khelgar hoisted his axe and ran full bore to the orc closest to him. Before he could get a chance to swing, the green beast dropped to the ground, an arrow sticking out of its skull. When he shot an angry glance at me, I held up my blades briefly before returning to the fray. Glancing around we saw a band of fighters rushing into battle on the opposite side of us. "Wh-? Hey! Those are our orcs!" Khelgar shouted, annoyed that someone was cutting in on his fun.

Between our two groups we quickly dispatched the remaining orcs and as we each cleaned our weapons and eyed each other warily, a man who radiated leadership closed the distance between us. Looking down at Khelgar, he spoke calmly. "The Sword Mountains are a dangerous place. More now than ever, with the orc tribes gathered behind Logram's banner."

Oh, now I was pissed. Why is it men automatically assume it's the male leading the group? "I had things under control." _Ha, how about a dose of ice with your reality sir?_

He glanced at me, realization and amusement flicking over his face. "So I noticed. I thank you then for allowing us to take part in the battle."

Khelgar grunted rudely. "We were doing just fine without you, thanks"

Ignoring the dwarf now that he discovered who the leader was, he kept his eyes trained on me. "I am Casavir, and my men and I have been hunting this group of orcs for days."

"So you're the one that's been harassing the orcs?" _Well, Callum will be happy to know that at least._

"Yes, we've been hunting the orcs here for many months. Recently, we have stepped up attacks, however. When Neverwinter finally moved to retake Old Owl Well, we redoubled our efforts - with the orcs being attacked from two fronts, it prevents them from massing to retake the Well."

Still irritated, I shot a dismissive glace over at his small band. "This is all the men that you have? Not much of a force"

He either ignored my annoyance or didn't hear it. "These are many of the farmers and veterans of the Luskan War who have tried to make Old Owl Well their home - and been denied by the orcs. Their knowledge of Old Owl Well and its hidden paths have proven valuable. Those not out on the hunt are back at our main camp. I'm curious. Why have you ventured into the mountains? Surely you understood the risk in coming here." _Hmm, he seems like to much of a do-gooder to be just a mercenary. Uh oh, my paladin senses are tingling!_

Even though I figured if he was a paladin he wouldn't be here to harm us, I still wanted to mess with him for his little oopsie earlier. "How do I know I can trust you?" I asked, my face a mask of distrust, even as a smirk fought to slide across my lips.

He shot yet another amused glance at me. "I sided with you against the orcs - and am now talking with you, despite your suspicions." _Be still my heart, does the paladin actually have a sense of humor?_ "My scouts have reported on your progress through the Sword Mountains. You have survived much. Why are you here?" _Or not…_

Quickly deciding with the less critical of our two missions I matched my tone to his. "We're searching for the orc chieftain, Logram Eyegouger."

A small smile quirked over his lips, making him look suddenly younger than I originally thought. "Then we share the same goal. His lair is difficult to find, and the approach is no doubt well-defended. Killing Logram would certainly throw the orcs into disarray. However, I'm guessing that you have another purpose for being here as well."

"Why would you say that?"

"Well, anyone looking to slay the orc tribe chieftain would normally bring along a larger force. No matter. As our goals are the same, your reasons are none of my concern."_ Well, at least he isn't stupid._

"Tell me where that path is, and I'll take care of the orcs." Although he seemed capable enough, I really didn't want to deal with another high and mighty person. Elanee was more than enough. Besides, as I glanced back at Neeshka, I noticed she was rubbing her arms as though they itched. Comprehension dawned. _Paladin + Half Demon = Bad Mix._

"Our soldiers know the mountain well, but even they would have missed it if not by chance. If you intend to enter the stronghold of Logram, it is to the north. I can lead the way," he offered, clearly not intending to let us go alone.

"I can find the way myself."

"You probably could... but by then it could be too late. I can get you there faster." _Was he patronizing me?!_

An attractive woman in full plate stepped forward, holding her sword as though she actually knew how to use it. "We have lost some men, but I will assemble who I can and join you on the assault."

"No, Katriona - we have already lost too many, and a massed attack on Logram will only cost us more - I will be going on alone."

"Casavir... sir... we kept you from this once. I think it's best if..." _Uh oh, me thinks I detect a bit more than respect in her tone._

He turned to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Please, it is important that you do as I ask. Take the survivors, and fall back to the Greycloaks camp. Do what you can to help them and keep the pressure on the orcs. If we cannot defeat Logram, then he will come after them in full force, and the Greycloaks _must _be warned." A sense of doom laced through his words even though his voice was firm.

Katriona's eyes widen incredulously, "So after all this time avoiding the Neverwinter forces, _now_ you want me to stride right into their camp? Look... Casavir... let me go with you. There is no need to keep doing this alone - let us help you."

"Why aren't we bringing the others?" Khelgar piped up.

"A smaller group will move quicker and attract less attention. The trail to Logram's lair is narrow - more swords will not aid us there."

"I've _seen _that trail. If you go up there, you will be nothing more than easy targets. Gods know what guards or defenses they have... you'll be killed." _Yep, the girl definitely has a thing for him. While he is attractive enough, somehow I doubt he is one to keep you warm at night…Seems kinda cold to me._

"You have your orders, Katriona. We'll meet you back at the Greycloaks camp after we have dealt with Logram."

"Very well. Good luck, sir." While her words were that of a good solider, her tone wasn't. Anger was clear, but it seemed as though the paladin couldn't sense it.

Casavir watched as Katriona and the rest of the men disappeared into the mountains. Turning back to me, he hefted his warhammer over his shoulder. "Are you ready to take on Logram and his clan? I can guide you to the path to his lair."

_Let the bloodshed begin,_ I thought with a sigh, preparing my own weapons for battle.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 3

Well well well, it seems as though our new companion had a bit of a history with Neverwinter. When we returned to Old Owl Well, it turned out Callum knew him. After watching their exchange for a while, I managed to get the general gist of his past. Seems Mr. High-and-Mighty was or is a paladin of Tyr and for some reason left the city in a way that made it seem as though he was disloyal. While I could understand why someone would want to get out from under the Nasher's well made boot, something told me that he didn't do it for that reason.

On our way to Shandra Jerro's farm I tried to pry the story out of him, but it was no use. Every attempt I made to loosen him up, it seemed as though he threw up thicker walls. Not one to linger on things I can't change at the moment, I had decided to let it go, at least for a while.

We had finally been allowed access to the Blacklake District and were able to search out Aldanon. Somehow I discerned through the old man's ramblings that the shards were pieces of a shattered githyanki sword back from the time of the war. This silver sword, when in one piece, had the power to sever the cord of an astral traveler, killing them instantly with no hope of resurrection. _Note to self, stay away from the planes._

Anyways, Aldanon told us that the githyanki seem to lose these swords enough that they have a special band of 'Sword Stalkers' whose main function was to retrieve the blades. _If you ask me though, if these weapons were so special, they should take better care to not lose them._ Considering no one did ask, my thoughts continued down their normal meandering path. It looked like a man by the name of Ammon Jerro was the one to steal this particular sword and we were to find out if he had the rest of the pieces or at least knew how the bloody thing got shattered. Easy enough, right?

Of course not! The old bastard had the ill grace to die so then we had to go to the city archives to find out who his descendants are. Like a fool, I thought that that would be easy enough. Wrong again! Upon arrival, there were a bunch of dead caretakers, and a frantic old man with an eye patch like a pirate saying something about green devils and how I had to answer some inane questions to get access to the room I needed. Of course he wouldn't just tell me the answers; I had to go find some bleed'n books about some drunken sailor and a flat Faerûn, among other things. Now, I like to read a good story as much as the next person, but reading dry books in between backstabbing githyanki warriors does not constitute a good time. Well, for me at least. Khelgar and Neeshka seemed to have fun with the killing part.

To make the rest of a long story short, I answered the questions and got access to the room with the Book. _Yes, book with a capital 'B', or at least that's what everyone made it seem like._ When we entered of course there were already gith in there, who were also looking for looking for information about Jerros. While one group of them _tried_ to kill us, another ran way in an attempt to reach Shandra's farm before us. By that point, I was getting pretty damn sick of people trying to kill me, and I'm afraid that some of those books will never get the bloodstains off of them.

No matter. With only a stop to kick one of the dead gith for good measure, Neeshka, Khelgar, the paladin and I rushed to Shandra's farm to rescue her. What would you know… More Giths! Well now, that's a surprise… _Sigh._

We killed the gith, talked to the girl, watched her run away from us, watched her be chased promptly by more Giths, killed those gith and finally packaged her up with us and headed back to the Flagon.

_Whew… what a week, _I thought as I reminisced about the past few days and attempted to drown my tired bones in a mug of Duncan's best swill. Shandra had already retired to bed, mentally and physically exhausted from the day. Staring into my cup, I was trying to figure out if I should too, when Casavir came up to my table and sat down across from me.

"My lady, I noticed you have an interesting style of fighting. What is it you did before all of this?"

I glanced at him, an eyebrow cocked in amusement, despite my fatigue. _And since when have I been 'My Lady' to him?_ "What is it I did? Well… you could say I relieved people of items that they no longer needed, and provided them to those that did." _Namely me…_

He looked at me, the light in his eyes going cold. "So, you're a thief. I see… that explains the rapier and dagger."

I gave him a cool look of my own. I'm not accustom to people questioning me and he was starting to irritate me with his disapproving tone. "Thief, liberator of items, call it what you want. I am what I am, and I don't change that for anyone but myself." I lowered my voice into a mocking purr. "As for my weapon choice, you really think a little thing like me would be able to carry a huge hammer like a big strong man such as yourself?" I fluttered my eyelashes coyly for good measure, laughing inwardly as his cheeks flushed a deep pink.

"Forgive me my lady; it is not my place to judge you." As he stumbled over his words and blushed deeply, I knocked a few more years off his age. He most likely was in his mid to late thirties with dark black hair and just a sprinkle of grey thrown in for contrast. Normally, I prefer men in my own age group, but he was rather attractive in a desolate, moody sort of way. _Not that I have had much experience with men to be able to have much of a preference. The selection of available males in West Harbor left something to be desired. My only usual options there seemed to be the Mossfield brothers or… Bevil._ I shuddered inwardly at the thought.

He must have seen the look of disgust on my face, as he quickly rose from the table and wished me a good night. He retreated to his rooms with a speed surprising for a man in a walking iron suit. Sighing, I looked back down into my mug and scowled when I saw it was empty. Walking up to the bar, I noticed it was much busier tonight than it has been in the past. Shoving my way to the front I signaled Sal for a refill.

He came over to take my tankard and handed me two new ones. When I looked at him, he smiled apologetically. "Could you take the other to Bishop over in that corner? I'm a bit busy up here and can't get away."

Shooting him an understanding smile, I nodded and wandered off. I liked Sal, he was a good bartender, always ready to listen to whatever you had to say, no matter how drunk you were. I wondered as to why he didn't have a place of his own, but figured he must be satisfied with his lot in life.

As I approached the table he gestured to, I noticed it was the same man who sized me up the first night. Cold amber eyes watched me as I walked up and I couldn't help but think that they reminded me of a wolf's. Cold and impersonal, not caring if you lived or died, but willing to kill you if you pissed it off… or if it was bored. A days worth of growth darkened his jaw and the nearby fire threw golden-red highlights into his dark brown hair.

I paused at his table to set his tankard down and glanced at him when his rough voice growled at me, "If I wanted a wench, I'd go to the local brothel."

Startled by the rude greeting, I bit back the retort that jumped immediately to my tongue. Instead, I leaned my hip against his table and glanced at my nails before shooting him a look that would made most men back off. Pasting a sweet smile on my face, I cooed, "I'm sure you would, that is, if they hadn't barred the door against your stench."

Instead of the anger I expected to see on his face, there was a flicker of amusement. "Why don't you run off like a good little nuisance?" he snapped before pausing to looking me up and down suggestively. "Then again, stick around. A few more drinks and you might start looking good to me."

_Come on boy, I could trade insults with you all day…_

I gave him a once over in return, returning to his face to show I wasn't impressed. _Liar,_ my brain whispered at me. _Shut up brain._ "Perhaps… but I doubt there is enough ale in Neverwinter to make you look good to **me**." Shooting him another sweet smile, I continued on my way back to my table. Even from across the room, I could feel his annoyance at not getting the last barb in, but when I looked at his face, it almost looked as if he was having a hard time hiding a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 4

"Alarm! Alarm! Everybody out of bed, the Flagon is under attack!" Duncan's voice shattered the still night air as I groaned into my pillow. _One night of sleep. Why is that so much to ask for!_ Hauling myself out of bed, I threw on my leathers as quickly as possible over my bare skin, wincing at the thought of the chaffing I would get by not putting on the under padding. I prefer to sleep nude whenever possible, but considering how often people are trying to kill me, maybe I should look at sleeping in my armor instead.

Grabbing my rapier off the bedside table and my dagger from under my pillow I sprang out the door, armed and pissed. Cutting down the first green skinned bugger that came to me, I turned to the second. "Can't a girl get any sleep around here!" I screamed as I dodged his swing and came up inside his guard. He looked surprised as I punched him in the throat and slit it open when he staggered backwards.

I cut a path to the common room only to see piles of dead green guys and the patrons and my companions all fighting. Sneaking behind one of many circling around Khelgar, I gave a vicious swipe to where I thought the Gith's kidneys would be. _Damn planar creatures. You best have the same guts we do!_ As warm blood sprayed over my hands, the gith fell to the ground writhing. _Yup, same stuff._

Hearing a noise over my shoulder, I spun to late. A githyanki had its sword raised for a death blow and it was already starting to fall towards my head. I readying myself for a desperate spring, even though I knew there was no time.

Something whistled by my ear and suddenly the heavy sword clattered out of now limp hands and an arrow protruded from between the gith's eyes. As it fell forward I looked around wildly and saw Bishop already notching another arrow. When I gave him a small nod, he simple raised an eyebrow and continued firing.

*******

I ran a hand through my dark disheveled hair and looked around at the bloody chaos that was my uncle's normally clean inn. Sliding down into one of the few chairs that were out of the way of Qara's barrage of fireballs, I sighed and began to clean the blood off my blades.

_Why_, I thought, _why can I never get a full nights rest? Every time there is a break between crisis's, shit like this always happens. As soon as I lay my head on a real pillow it's always something. This time, it was more Giths, GITHS! And now look at this mess! Why couldn't it be vampires? At least they ash when you kill them… We could just have swept that mess out the door._

At that image, I chuckled morbidly to myself. _Wow,_ _am I that used to crap like this happening? I remember back in West Harbor when the biggest worry was dealing with the Mossfield brothers._

As I continued the soothing, methodical process of cleaning my weapons, Duncan's panicked voice broke into my reverie. I raised a weary head and tried to focus on what he was saying.

"That lass, Shandra, has been taken? How in the hells did those githyanki get into the city?"

"Does that matter? You'd best hurry if you want to get her back."

I would have recognized that sneering drawl anywhere. _Bishop. What the hell is he doing now, _I wondered as he kneeled down beside one of the green hairless bodies.

"Look, this one has a sprig of Duskwood trapped in his boot. That means they came from deep within Luskan territory... and that's where they'd be returning to."

_Hmm, clever. Perhaps he has done something other that sit on his butt in a tavern, sometime in his life._

Duncan shot Bishop a challenging look. "Luskan... that's your territory, Bishop."

"Yes, but it's not my problem. I'm not going into Luskan territory for some farm girl, and certainly not with any kin of yours, Duncan."

I stood up and casually leaned against a nearby wall. "Come on Bishop, it sounds good to me. Rescue the girl, kill some people, and even if we don't find her, we would have had fun anyways."

Bishop shot me a glare that would have made someone less stubborn back down. "Is your whole family deaf, Duncan?

"You'll help them, Bishop, whether you like it or not," said Duncan.

"And what makes you th..."

Duncan stared wordlessly at the ranger, the tension palpable.

"Calling it due, are you, Duncan? Are you sure?"

"A woman's life is at stake, Bishop. If that's what it takes to move you to do the right thing, then so be it."

The ranger glared at him for a moment before finally snarling, "Fine, it will be worth it to be rid of you - and for such a small price, too. You're a fool, Duncan."

_Hmm_, I wondered. _I wonder what Duncan hold's over Bishops head that would make him do this._ I groaned as I realized that this meant he would be traveling with them, and Luskan was several days journey from here. Thinking with dread what would happen on the trail, I tried to think who would be the best to accompany us. _Casavir, yes, hopefully his paladin-ness would temper Bishop in some ways. He is a decent fighter besides. Qara should come also. I could definitely use the firepower, even if that means putting up with her. Hopefully I will be able to keep everyone from killing each other_, I thought with a sigh. _Then again, Qara make actually make things worse. Perhaps Khelgar would be a better choice. The more armored people to take the brunt of the attack, the more damage I can do from behind._

I was drawn out of my mental planning by Bishop's gruff voice.

"All right, pack your bags and grab your weapons. We're bound for the Luskan border. Follow my lead and don't try to be clever. If the Luskans catch us, they'll use us for target practice."

Slightly indignant, I slowly drew myself up to my full five foot four inches and looked calmly at Bishop. "I give the orders around here. We'll go when I say we go," I informed him. As much as I tried to hide it, I could feel my eyes betraying my irritation.

He glared at me, not bothering to hide _his_ irritation. "You're a lot like your Uncle... calling debts, giving orders... that kind of behavior can get you killed."

"Don't keep me waiting too long. I may just change my mind about helping you bring back the farmer girl."

Determined not to be the one to break eye contact first, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand on my arm. Duncan pulled me over to the side of room and began speaking in a low voice.

"Watch out for Bishop. His interests are his own, and his loyalty only lasts as long as his debt... or your gold." he warned. "The only good I can say of Bishop is that he's a survivor - and a gifted tracker who knows Luskan territory like the back of his hand."

Curiously I asked, "Why does he know Luskan so well?"

A pained look crossed Duncan's face, "He's a smuggler who makes regular runs across the Luskan border, and he's tangled with them more than a few times."

I swore to myself. "Wonderful. Are there any bounties on his head, or anything else I should know about before we head to the middle of nowhere with this man?"

"Not that I am aware of. You should be fine. He can be difficult, but he is one of the best rangers around. Just find the girl and you will be done with him. I don't think I have to tell you to watch your back though."

I took one moment to longingly glance at my room, before turning and crisply calling to Casavir and Khelgar. "Pack enough for a trip to Luskan and back. Pack light though; we will be traveling as quickly as possible." With that said, I glanced at Bishop with a defiant expression on my face. He just stared back at me, obviously accessing, with nothing but coldness in his eyes.

I sighed to myself as everyone headed to their rooms. This is going to be a long trip.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 5

The day passed quickly and quietly on the road. Khelgar and Casavir had fallen slightly behind, talking about honor and duty. Ugh… I caught up to Bishop as soon as that conversation started, preferring his angry silence to that subject. After a while, I started sneaking looks at our new companion, trying to take a better measure of him. Clad in leather armor that had obviously seen many years of use, he carried himself in a way that screamed "get out of my way." His ruggedly handsome face seemed to have a permanent shadow caused by his reddish brown stubble along his jaw. And even though he was pleasing to look at by conventional standards, what really made his stand out were his eyes. I found myself strangely hypnotized by them.

Bishop glanced at me. "What?" he snapped.

Pretending I hadn't been sneaking glances at him all day, I tried to play it off. "Well, I was just thinking. Since we will be working together, I have some questions for you."

"I'm not being paid to _chat_," he growled, trying to make me back off.

Not put off by his tone, I decided to be reasonable. "Well, what if I paid you?"

He gave a disgusted snort. "No amount of gold can buy _my_ thoughts."

I gave him an amused glance. "How about twenty gold, will you answer my questions for that?"

He considered me for a moment for nodding grudgingly. "Fine, but that won't get you much."

Giving him a satisfied grin, I tossed him a small coin pouch. "So, what is it you do when you're not escorting people into Luskan territory?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Well now. That's a rather… intimate… question." Somehow, he managed to put a lot of heat into that simple sentence. My heart started to speed up in a way it never had before. I tried to settle it as he continued. "What, you think that some honeyed words and a tiny bit of gold will get me to open up, to show you my tender side?" He snorted. "I'll need more on both sides of the fence before I do that."

Trying to show he wasn't getting to me, I merely glanced at him. "Well, are you going to answer it or no?"

He gave a shrug that clearly said this conversation was boring him. "Normally, I hunt and kill people. Other times I track them down so other people can kill them." Glancing over most likely to see if I was shocked, he seemed slightly surprised when he saw I was rather amused. "Of course," he continued mockingly, "I'm only half serious, but that's all a pinch of gold will buy you."

"Ah, I see. I look forward to hearing about that at a later time then" I said. "And does all this happen during the smuggling that Duncan mentioned?"

"Duncan mentioned that, did he?" his voice lowering into a threat. "I'll have to have a little _chat_ with your uncle when we get back."

Finally I started getting irritated by his attitude. Grabbing his arm, I hauled us to a stop. Ice in his eyes, he looked slowly at my hand on his arm, and then back to me. Realizing I had stepped over a line, I quickly released him and folded my arms over my chest. Khelgar and Casavir caught up to us at that point and I waved them on. Seeing that neither man wanted to leave us alone, I finally shot a pointed look at Khelgar. Grumbling, he continued down the path, nearly pulling the taller man behind him.

When the other two were finally out of ear shot I turned a hard look on Bishop. "Look," I said, annoyance plain on my face, "I don't know what the deal is with you and Duncan, but it is between the two of you alone. Know that I would prefer not to depend on someone who is here by coercion; as it tends to lead to a lot of extra bodies." I narrowed my eyes and added, "Also know, it would be a pity if yours was among them."

I could feel the ice creeping into my voice as I continued. "You seem to me to be a man who doesn't like not having options, so here are some for you. Option one is you can turn your ass around and head back to Neverwinter or crawl into the woods somewhere. I don't care which one considering I didn't ask for your help. Option two is that you come with us of your own free will, hunt a woman, kill some people, make some money and even possibly, just possibly have some fun. What ever you decide, just do it quickly because we're going to keep moving." That said, I spun on my heel and stalked off to catch up to the others.

I didn't know it, but Bishop stood standing in the middle of the road for a few long moments, staring after me with something approaching admiration. No one had spoken like that to him before. Well, more like spoken like that and lived that is.

*******

As night fell softly around us, Bishop lead us to a clearing in the woods and announced that it was getting to dark to follow the trail any further and that we should stop to rest for the night.

"The longer we delay; the worse the chances are of finding Shandra alive. I say we keep going. We need to get to her before any more harm befalls her," said Casavir with obvious concern in his voice.

Bishop glared and the paladin and sneered. "I don't know about you, but I am no drow to see in the dark. If we miss the trail because you wanted to continue with no light, then it is on you. I for one don't care." Tauntingly he drawled, "Who knows, with the amount of time we would lose from taking the wrong path, they could be doing unspeakable things to farmgirl's body." He paused for a moment to let the thought sink in. "I know I would."

Casavir's hand went immediately to his hammer. Eyeing him, Bishop's went to his daggers.

"Enough!" I barked as I quickly stepped between the two men. Angrily I turned to face Bishop, dagger in my own hand. Pressing its tip to his neck, I stepped closer to him with a hiss. "You will keep that nasty tongue behind your teeth, unless you wish to find it missing."

He pressed forward until he was close enough that our chests were nearly touching. Bishop fixed me with a glare, his odd amber eyes daring me to back down. I stood my ground without wavering, all too aware that this battle would set the course for the rest of the trip. I wouldn't withdraw the dagger even as he pressed against it and ruby drops of blood began to trickle down his neck. His amber eyes were locked on my green ones in a wordless battle and the only sound was the wind through the trees and our harsh breathing.

Finally, after what seemed like hours and taking care of my knife at his throat, he gave a miniscule nod and took a step back. I slowly lowered my dagger, hiding my trembling muscles. A person was really not designed to hold a position for that length of time, not matter how strong they were. I wiped the blade on my dark leather pants before sliding it back in its wrist sheath.

Warily, I turned to look at Casavir as much as I could without giving Bishop my back. "However, as much as it pains me to say it, he is right. The light is fading quickly and there is no way to follow the trail." "Besides," I said, attempting to sooth ruffled male feathers, "if we don't get any sleep, we will be in no shape to rescue her."

He sighed but nodded. "Very well Kathrynn. We shall rest here for the night and start as soon as possible in the morning. I shall take first watch."

"No", I said a bit to quickly. I saw the look on his face, and tried to come up with a suitable explanation. It wasn't as if I could just tell him that I didn't want him and Bishop to be about at the same time. I would certainly wake up to one of them being dead. "I imagine you must still be exhausted from our previous journey. I know none of us has had more than a few hours of sleep for this past week. I need you fresh for tomorrow. I'll take first watch." _Oh, that was a good save girl, I'll have to remember that line for next time._

"Whatever ye decide lass. This dwarf is gonna get some sleep now. Wake me if there's something to kill… or ale… or food…" Khelgar trailed off sleepily as he flopped down onto his bedroll. I smiled at him, despite the tension in the air. He always knew what his priorities were.

After throwing a dark look at Bishop, Casavir clutched my arm in a gentle yet unbreakable grip and pulled me slightly away from the group. "I do not trust him, and I do not like the way he looks at you."

Surprised by his abrupt words, I extracted my arm from his grasp. I could feel Bishop's eyes boring into my back as he watched. I knew without turning there was an evil smirk on his face, and that he could hear every word. I ignored the first part of his statement for obvious reasons, and decided to focus on the last. "Why do you care?"

Casavir looked at me intently, "Because he is a predator. Watch yourself - he is manipulative and dangerous." He shot another glare at Bishop over my shoulder, "I am not comfortable with you being alone with him this night."

I found myself slightly taken aback by the burning intensity in his eyes and tried to reassure him. "Thank you, it is good to know you are looking out for me."

"Forgive me; it is not my place to say. I only felt compelled to warn you," he muttered, a blush stealing across his tan cheeks.

I patted his arm somewhat awkwardly being as his shoulder was to high to reach comfortably, and steered him to the other side of the clearing. "Thank you," I said again, "but I can handle anything he can throw at me. Rest well, for we have a long journey ahead of us still."

After staring down at my hand on his arm for a moment, he gave me one last concerned look before heading to a less rocky spot to set up his own bedroll. _Why do men get a weird look on their face when I touch them? I know I'm not the most beautiful gal, but I've always been told I'm fairly attractive…_ With a sigh I turned back around and saw Bishop had disappeared. Something told me that more than likely, that would happen a lot. I didn't particularly like not knowing where he was but could understand wanting to get away from the rest of them, at least for a little while. _Sure that's it,_ a small voice whispered,_ it has nothing to do with the fact that you just like looking at him…_Quickly I attempted to squash that voice, but it merely faded to the background temporarily.

*******

An hour past quickly, the quiet night broken by Khelgar's occasional loud snores. _Maybe that elf Sand has some sorta potion we could feed him at night to shut him up…_The sudden snapping of a branch cut through the night like a shot, breaking into my thoughts. Jumping to my feet, I prepared to slide my dagger from its sheath while leaving my rapier where it was. I knew instinctively whatever made the noise was not something bent on destruction, but I wasn't willing to take any chances. Cautiously I crept to the tree line, desperately trying to make out shapes with my human eyes. _That's it, next time we go to town, I'm getting something with darkvision, _I thought with disgust. Luckily we hadn't lit a fire tonight so my eyes were used to the dark, but I still wasn't able to see anything further than a few feet into the trees. I took a few more careful steps forward and by the time I was about twenty feet into the trees, I still couldn't see or hear anything.

With a sigh I turned to the camp and prepared to make my way back, hopefully without tripping on the undergrowth. Suddenly I heard the dry sound of supple leather and was jerked backwards against a rock hard chest, while a man's calloused hand clamped roughly over my mouth. Panic hit me for a brief moment as he pulled me back further into the trees.

He suddenly stopped quickly enough that I lost my balance. One hand still covering my mouth, he snaked his arm around my waist and yanked me hard against his chest again, presumably so I wouldn't fall. Warm breath tickled my ear as he growled, "I could kill you now and there is no way they could get here in time." He quickly disarmed me, before holding my own dagger at my throat. _Well shit… This isn't good._

Thinking quickly, I struggled against him trying to slip an arm behind me. _Almost…almost… there!_ The low voiced growled in my ear again and despite the situation, I noticed with interest that pressed against him as tightly as I was, I could feel his chest rumbling against my back. "I'm going to remove my hand now, and if you scream, I will kill you. Understand?"

Slowly I nodded, taking care of the razor sharp point dimpling my throat. After he moved his hand away slowly, I wiggled my jaw a bit, working out the discomfort. "Well Bishop, if you wanted to talk to me, you could have just asked…" _Not a good time to be a smart ass, girl, _my brain yelledas he pressed the knife in further. _Oh, I did __**not**__ just let out a squeak. How humiliating._

"You and I need to get something straight little Kat. You don't hold my leash, and you are not going to order me around, you got that? I'm my own man, not your lapdog like the paladin." As if to make his point perfectly clear, he pressed until the knife broke the skin and a small trickle of blood dripped down my neck. In sudden morbid amusement, I realized he had marked me in the same place where I marked him.

"And that's why you irritate me less than he does. I knew what you were going into this, with him, I thought I was getting a wardog and instead I got an angsty retriever." I forced the calm that I didn't feel into my voice as I told him the truth. _Never let them see a weakness…_

There was silence around us for a moment as I felt his chest vibrate. I sucked in a breath. _By the gods, is he laughing? Is it possible??_ Gripping me tighter against him, he leaned down to my ear, "And just what did you get with me?" he asked in a silky murmur.

Being pressed against his body and feeling the warm rumbling against my back was creating some odd sensations, almost as if my insides were tying themselves in knots. His warm breath on my ear definitely wasn't helping the situation either. My voice came out breathier than I intended it to when I answered him. "A wolf," I said, in an almost whisper.

Again the vibrations rumbled from his body to my own before being cut off abruptly. "I could have easily slit your white throat and nobody could have saved you. Don't even start thinking that it bother me for a moment," he said coldly.

"Ah," I tisked at him, relieved that this conversation was almost over. "I doubt that." With that, he felt a tapping against his groin. Looking down, he finally saw that I had gotten one of his own hunting knifes out of his belt and had the sharp point uncomfortably close to his manhood. "I think you would have been _very_ bothered."

Releasing me, he grudging gave in to a laugh. It sounded rusty, as though it hadn't been used in a while. I flipped the knife and caught it by the blade, handing it back to him hilt first. A tiny mocking smile played over his lips as he slipped it back into place. "Look," I said to him, trying to clear the air, "all I ask of you is that you help us find the girl, while not getting us killed. I'm not going to demand you be less of an asshole, because somehow I get the impression that it just wouldn't be… umm, well… you. Anyways, once we find her, you're free to do as you wish, no leashes attached."

Before he could say anything, I heard Casavir calling my name from back at camp. Giving Bishop a shrug I headed back there, slightly confused at the reluctance I felt. I broke through the trees and back into the camp just as Casavir's voice was starting to get more frantic. Seeing me, relief jumped into his eyes.

"My lady, I awoke and saw that both you and Bishop were gone and thought…"

I gave him a shrug. "Sorry about that. I needed to relieve myself."

A blush flooded his cheeks and I snickered inwardly. "But where is Bishop?" he pressed.

"Most likely searching for game to supplement our stores. Not sure though, I'm not his keeper." Hidden deep in the trees, I could still feel amber eyes burning a hole into my back. Something told me if I saw them, there would be approval in them, however slight.

Unsure on how to respond to that, he stammered something before a strange look crossed his face. Stepping closer to me, he grasped my chin in his hand and pulled my face up. _Ok, well… umm… this is different._ "My lady, you're bleeding, what happened?" he asked as he gently wiped the blood off my neck with the tip of his thumb.

Chin still trapped in his strong grasp, I thought of something quickly. "Oh, that? Uh…That's nothing, I ran into some thorny ivy that was on a branch…" His cool blue eyes bore into mine, disapproval on his face. _Bah! Why do paladins have that annoying truth sensor?_ With a sigh he released my chin and stepped away from me. Walking back over to his bedroll, he called back to wake him when his watch arrived.

_*******_

_Bishop watched their conversation from the dark depths of the forest, safely hidden by the centuries old trees. When that damn paladin grabbed her, he had felt an unexplainable urge to kill the other man, but considering that wasn't a new urge when dealing with Casavir, he didn't think to much about it. He did find his thoughts wandering more frequently though back to this new girl, Duncan's niece. How the two were related, he couldn't tell as they seemed nothing alike._

_She was quick with her tongue and didn't back down when he comes after her, something that is rare in anyone, let alone a woman. Despite having every intention to hate her as much as he did Duncan, he had to admit, albeit grudgingly, she didn't seem as bad as that drunk. In fact, _his own thoughts whispered to him_, she seemed much better, especially on the eyes…_

_After Casavir released her and returned to bed, he watched as she sat alert and silent. As another hour passed, she prepared her own camp for the night before waking Khelgar for his turn. She fell asleep almost as soon as she lay down and only then did Bishop turn to go. Summoning his wolf companion, Karnwyr, he disappeared into the deep forest._


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 6

The light was barely over the horizon when the wolf howled. That wasn't something that would normally concern me, until I remembered that we made no fire last night to keep them at bay and it seemed very, very, close. I bolted upright, looking for where it was coming from as it howled again. Casavir and Khelgar gripped their weapons in preparation as a huge grey wolf padded out of the tree line, pausing at the edge of our camp.

"Should we kill it? I could use a new pair o' boots," Khelgar said in a loud whisper.

"Nay, it has not made any move to harm us. We will not shed blood unless forced to."

I rolled my eyes. _Bloody paladins. _I took a close look at it as it watched us. I got the distinct impression that it was taking measure of each of us. For some strange reason, I really didn't want to be found lacking by that beautiful animal. Instinctively I sat down on my knees and waited.

"Lass! What are ya doing? It could attack at any moment"

I shot him a look. "Look at him Khelgar, he doesn't seem to be diseased, and obviously isn't hungry, so why should he attack?"

Khelgar thought about that a moment while glancing warily at the wolf. Suddenly his face brightened. "Ya think he isn't hungry because he ate the ranger?" At seeing my glare he shrugged. "What? If we need a guide, maybe the wolf could be it instead…"

Snorting, I shook my head. "And not even five minutes ago, you wanted to make boots out of - "

"Kathrynn," Casavir's voice hissed urgently at me. "Very slowly, move. It is coming toward you."

Ignoring him, I turned back to watch it come slowly closer to me, every few feet stopping and cocking its head to the side to stare at me. My heart quickened with excitement and a bit of fear as he finally came within arms reach of me. Our eyes bore into each others, his yellow ones reminding me of something…

Whatever the wolf sought in my face, he apparently found as he took the last few steps to me. I could hear Khelgar anxiously twisting his axe in his hands and imagined the tension that would be radiating off of the paladin. As I laughed inwardly at them, the wolf stretched out and licked my cheek.

"Well I'll be a gnomes uncle…"

I stretched out a hand slowly and when it didn't move, stroked one of its soft ears. When it pushed his head into my hand I couldn't help but laugh out loud. All my life I have been fascinated by these wild animals, and here one was, demanding attention. I buried my hands in its thick fur, reveling in the feel.

Hearing the chink of plate, I looked up as Casavir approached slowly. Feeling the wolf start to tense under my fingers, I started to warn him. "Umm, Casavir, uh, you might not want - " Before I could finish my sentence, the wolf's hackles raised and he began to growl ferociously. Casavir stopped moving immediately, but didn't take a step back. I felt the powerful muscles in its shoulders begin to bunch in preparation for a spring, so I did the only thing I could think of.

Throwing my arms around shoulders, I buried my face in its neck. "_Tsién cóën," _I whispered frantically, "_álmcï_." Strangely, it calmed down enough that Casavir could creep away. _Hmm, I wonder if that would work on Bishop…_

"You know that animals always take out the weak and dying don't you?"

_Speak of the devil…_

"I am neither weak nor dying, Bishop."

Pushing off from the tree he was leaning against, he gave a casual shrug. "Not yet, anyways."

As soon as Casavir opened his mouth to retort, the wolf started growling loudly again. Sighing, I stroked his fuzzy head and whispered soothing nonsense noises in its ear. Catching something sailing through the air from the corner of my eye, I looked up in time to see Bishop toss a string of fowl to Casavir.

With a glare the paladin caught them and went to clean them as Khelgar started a fire.

Still on my knees, I saw a shadow over me in the dawning light. Ignoring it, I continued to stroke the wolf until it flopped over onto its side like a puppy, throwing me off balance. Landing on my rear with an undignified oomph, I finally looked up as it rested its head on my sprawled legs.

Bishop stood over me with that damnedable mocking look of his. "So, you think you can tame wild animals, hmm?"

Making the best of the situation, I leaned back on my hands and looked at him with my chin raised. "Naw, I mean where's the fun in that? Once you break them, they're never the same. Besides…" I said slowly, with a sly smile on my lips. "Why would I want a lapdog?"

A strange look passed over his face. _Is it? Could it be? Can the cold, hard, ranger actually be fighting back a smile??? _Continuing to tease him, I looked at him through lowered lashes. "Besides, something this big would hog the entire bed at night." I flashed him an innocent smile and threw in a few blinks for good measure. The look he gave me clearly said he wasn't fooled, but before he could say anything, Khelgar's booming voice cut through the air.

"Breakfast is ready! It's a dwarven specialty, fowl roasted in it's own juices over an open fire until crispy…"'

Having had the adventure of Khelgar's cooking before, I shot Bishop a crooked smile and I pulled my legs out from under a happy wolf. "Also known as 'burnt bird on a stick'. You can also follow that by his other favorites, 'burnt squirrel on a stick' and let us not forget the ever popular 'burnt fish on a stick.'"

Warily we approached the fire, eyes on the food and tried to prepare our stomachs. Casavir leaned over to me as soon as I was close enough and whispered, "What makes it a _dwarven_ specialty?"

I looked at him with the straightest face I could manage. "The fact that it's only palatable if your rip roaring drunk…"

The paladin tried rather unsuccessfully to smother a snort and turned quickly back to Khelgar as he proudly handed him a section of a greasy bird. Taking my own section with a smile plastered to my face, I took a deep breath, and took a bite.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 7

We looked down at the little village below us. There was no sign of life in the streets, not even livestock gazed in the fields. Bishop stopped suddenly, holding up a hand to halt our progress. "Hold on - something isn't right."

"It's a little late for everyone to be abed still…" Khelgar burred, concern creeping into his voice.

"I agree - the village is abandoned, no villagers, no smoke in the chimneys... and no livestock. Somehow I doubt they have every animal penned up in the barns…" A sinking feeling crept over me as my hands went to my weapons. My eyes stubbornly peered around, looking for any sign of life and normality.

Bishop gave me the appraising look I was becoming all to familiar with. "Now you're learning, good. Keep listening to me, and you might stay alive."

Indignant, I glared at him but before I could say anything, Khelgar stepped forward. "I think the lass was doing jes fine before ya came along ranger," he said in a defensive growl.

Slightly startled, I glanced at the dwarf. He was always defended me in a fight, but this was the first time he jumped to my side in a conversation. It seemed like Casavir wasn't the only one Bishop was getting to. _Like that's a surprise… _

Bishop took a step towards the fighter, contempt in his face. "And somehow I doubt that was due to any help from you. You're so loud I could have picked you all off a hundred times over before you even knew I was there…"

"Enough," I snapped. "Ease down, or at least finish this fight later. We are closing in on them and need to move fast to catch up before sundown. They aren't hiding their tracks anymore, but it will still be to hard to follow after dark."

At the look Bishop gave me I rolled my eyes. "You're not the only one who can read some tracks, and the ones they are leaving would be clear to a blind sailor." Sarcasm added bite to my voice. Hopefully everyone would get the hint and we could move on.

Ignoring my comment and turning back to the path, Bishop knelt next to a track, suspicion creeping into his voice. "It's almost as if they _want _us to keep up. I don't like it."

"Alright then, oh mighty ranger, should we wait here, see what happens?"

I heard Khelgar snort off to the side as Bishop looked at me grimly. "You're being a little cautious, don't normally care for that - but here, I think you're right. Keep your eyes open and your weapon handy. I smell an ambush."

_Well, what do you know…_ I thought as githyanki spilled out from behind the houses and charged us, weapons drawn. Tightened my grip on my own blades, I tensed in preparation.

*******

"Nice little ambush they planned here. Decent effort, sloppy execution. It might have even worked if I hadn't been here."

My back to him, I childishly mimicked his words to the dead gith below me as I struggled to pull my rapier out of its body. My last desperate thrust had slit his throat, but also lodged the blade into his clavicle. The bone made a sickening crack as I yanked the blade out, and I was hard pressed to suppress a shudder.

As soon as it was free I looked around at my companions, trying to assess injuries. It appeared we had survived mostly unscathed much to my relief. Although Elanee was a pain to have tag along, her skills at healing were able to put Casavir's to shame.

With expectancy and a bit of grim pleasure, Bishop's low voice interrupted my assessment. "Ah, and I was wondering where their reinforcements were. Come on, we're not done here yet." Looking over to his direction, I saw more of the green skinned assassins coming toward us. Sighing, I hoisted my weapon and cloaked myself in a nearby shadow as best as possible, hoping to get a clear shot at one of their backs as they came close.

Casavir and Khelgar charged forth to engage the incoming group. Blood flew in the as metal screamed against metal. One gith was quickly dispatched but several more remained. Suddenly I smelled electricity in the air. Looking around franticly I saw the githyanki mage hiding behind a building, hands waving in preparation for a lightning spell. Quickly, I pulled out the shortbow I carried and notched an arrow. After taking a precious second to target, I let it fly. I watched its path with anxious eyes and noted with some pride that it took the bastard out in one shot. _Ha! Try casting with an arrow in the throat, you overgrown frog… Uh oh -_ seeing that I had been spotted, I switched back to my blades as two of the gith broke off of the group Khelgar and Casavir were fighting and headed my direction.

The two were on me fast, and I was having difficulties holding them off. I saw the desperate look Casavir sent my direction, wanting to help me, but unable to fight his way free. I fought as if my life depended on it, which of course it did. A slash here, a slash there and they each bled from several different wounds, but nothing big enough to slow them down.

Seeing that the group the others were fighting was starting to fall, I renewed my efforts, managing to kill one of them. As the gith fell, the remaining one slammed the hilt of his broadsword into my shoulder. As my rapier fell from my suddenly numb fingers, the gith smiled evilly at me. Left with only my dagger, I was certain my end was near. It was one of those crystal clear moments when everything seems to move in slow motion. I saw the paladin and dwarf running toward me and as the planar raised his blade for a killing stroke, I knew they would never reach me in time.

Suddenly, within the space of a blink, the gith sprouted more quills than a hedgehog and fell the ground lifeless. I looked wide eyed in the direction my rescue had come from and saw Bishop lowering his bow, his quiver nearly depleted. We stared at each other for a moment before that mocking smile slide back into place on his face.

******

Casavir's hands were warm with healing energy as he fixed my dislocated shoulder. Rotating it with a happy sigh, I thanked him, and noted with amusement the blush that crept along his cheeks. _Have his eyes always been that blue? _I wondered as I looked at the man who always was there to watch my back and to fix me when I got in trouble. Before I could think on it any further, I caught the last part of what Bishop was saying.

"They left a large force in this village... which means it'll be easier on us when we catch up to the others - as long as we catch them before they go to ground."

"If their forces are divided, good - but that means the remainder will travel faster, and the trail will be harder to follow."

He looked at me, slight surprise on his face before he could mask it. "Eh? Well, now, aren't _you _a bright ray of hope." The sarcasm was so thick I could almost feel it.

"She was just pointing out the realities of the situation, Bish-" Casavir started with irritation.

Bishop swung around to glare at him. "I suggest you rein in that attitude of yours, paladin - what, you think our leader can't speak for herself?"

"It was not my intention to speak for her." Casavir said a tad defensively.

"Yeah? Then don't - and maybe next time you'll sound convincing." Bishop's voice was snide as he stalked closer to the other man.

Out of frustration, I gave the nearest body a swift kick to get their attention. Startled, they looked over at me. "And_**she**_ is tired of being spoken about as if _**she**_were not here!" As I glared at the two men, I noticed while Casavir had the grace to look slightly ashamed, Bishop just looked smug. Figuring the point had gotten across; I took a closer look at one of the houses. A curtain had twitched back and a pale, frightened face peeked out.

Out of nowhere anger rose in me. "They… they just _hid._ No one even tried to fight." My voice was soft and incredulous. I shook my head. _When West Harbor was attacked, we didn't just hide. We fought for our homes…_

Casavir saw the anger in my face and tried to make me see reason. "The githyanki are not common soldiers, and the villagers are not veterans of battle like we are." His calm words made sense, but I still couldn't shake the feeling of disbelief and a small amount of contempt for these people.

"This is not the first time the githyanki have appeared at a village unawares - surprise and ambushes favor them. I think the behavior of the villagers can be forgiven."

My head snapped up and my anger focused on his last words. "Forgiven?" I spat bitterly. "The people of West Harbor are not veterans of battle and yet they still fought. They fought and _died_ to protect their homes, they didn't just lay down like kicked dogs when the gith came." Without even realizing it, I took a step towards the paladin, fists clenching in anger. Casavir looked at me, blue eyes widening in surprise at my vehemence. I 'm not sure what exactly he saw in my face, as my green eyes blazed at him in warning, but it was enough to make him take a step back.

"Ah yes, that's right. Duncan told me what happened there... what do you think would have happened to your little swamp village if all of you had decided to surrender and wait the gith out?" I quickly turned to Bishop and saw that while his words were directed at me, he was staring at Casavir with a sneer.

The paladin looked back at him coldly, annoyance chasing out the concern on his face. "We don't deal in what might have been, Bishop... and these were untrained villagers - this is not West Harbor, and it is not the same." Disapproval heavy in his tone, and I knew it had to irritate Bishop just as much as it did me.

_Oh, you're just digging your self deeper and deeper paladin…_

"You know what would have happened as well as I do - at least I admit it."

"Those who stand up for themselves are the ones who deserve to live," I said coldly. I don't remember being so angry before, but seeing the dead gith laying on the ground and feeling our own blood still wet on our clothing brought back memories of that night that I had tried hard to forget.

"That's what I say. After all, if you aren't willing to kill for it, how important can it be?"

"Fighting is not the only option - and a willingness to die is not always a testament to what one believes."

"You keep telling yourself that. I heard a little about Old Owl Well, wonder what you were willing to die for there, eh?"

Leaving them to bicker with each other like fishwives, I took a few deep breaths, trying hard to get the screams and the images of the lifeless eyes of people I had grown up with out of my head. By sheer force of will, I slammed that door shut in my brain. _Get a grip Kathrynn, now is not time to revisit that. Save it for when you're very, very, drunk._

"Let's stop wasting time talking and move," I snapped, cutting in to their argument. I raised my hands to my temples, rubbing at the headache I could feel starting to pulse behind my eyes.

"Fine by me. Let's leave this worthless village behind, th-"

Bishop was interrupted as a small blond woman stepped in front of us from behind a building. "Forgive me... you... are you hunting a woman, Shandra Jerro?" she asked tentatively, fear showing clearly on her face.

I looked at her. She was petite, with flaxen hair and cornflower blue eyes, but what really struck me, is how much she reminded me of Amie. As my thought lingered over the friend that I left in West Harbor, staring lifelessly into the sky with such similar eyes, my voice came out harsher than I originally intended. "We are, and the longer we speak to you, the farther she gets."

She shot a scared look at my face before stammering, "Those creatures, we heard her screaming as they were carrying her off - I tried to call out to her, but... I didn't realize they had her at first, but she makes a merchant run through Ember and Port Llast during harvest season. We hadn't seen her yet this year, though, and-" She paused for a moment, as if realizing we didn't know who she was. "Sorry, where are my manners – my name is Alaine. Please, I saw the beasts taking her to the mountains to the northeast - they barely have an hour on you, but they were moving fast. Oh, and thank you for saving us from those creatures, I can't th-"

I cut off her ramblings with an angry wave of my hand. "You already have done enough by letting them ambush us," I snapped at her. Shocked, she just stared at me. "Now get out of the way!" I snarled when she didn't move. Quickly she stepped back and allowed us to pass.

As we walked by, Bishop could resist stopping in front of her. "Listen to our leader. Next time, fight, girl. Or next time, you'll die." His voice was cold and angry as he glowered down at her.

Casavir's deep baritone voice chastised him. "Not if I am here, ranger - should you or anyone else forsake them."

Bishop looked over to him with a sneer. "You can't be everywhere, "paladin." And sometimes defending the weak just keeps them weak."

Having had about as much of their arguing as I could take, I stalked off with the dwarf in tow. I had walked almost to the edge of town before they had even realized we had left. I hadn't planned on stopping to allow them to catch up, but a young voice called out to me from behind a tree.

"It's you... you're the one who will destroy Ember"

I stop in my tracks and looked at the speaker. It was a young boy, with dark hair and eyes that couldn't have been more than nine or ten. He seemed pale but otherwise strangely calm after what had just happened. _Something isn't quite right with this boy_, my thoughts whispered; _there's something creepy about him…_

"What are you talking about? I've never been here before," I asked, confused as to his meaning.

He tilted his head to the side, looking puzzled. Suddenly, I felt something radiating off the boy, an unseen force that washed over me in waves. "Wait... no... I was mistaken. Strange... the killer looks like you, but isn't."

As he took a few steps closer to me, the force around him got stronger, making the air thick and difficult to breathe. As if noticing my discomfort he stopped and glanced around calmly, before his eyes settled back on my face. "I am called Marcus. _Know_ that Ember cannot be saved. All within the village when the time comes will perish except one - me. I think you are carrying something which will allow me to survive. You cannot help me in any other way." Hearing him state the impending doom of his village in such a matter-of-fact voice was chilling, especially out of one so young.

I looked into his eyes and saw an age there that belied his years. I tried to ignore the chill that was raising the hairs on the back of my neck. "Only you? What about the other villagers?" I asked softly.

"Ember's fate is set in stone, but mine is not. However, I will share Ember's fate unless you help me." Again, I was struck with how calm he was. Wordlessly I held out my pack to him. "Thank you," he said as he carefully looked through the bag, pawing aside the bones, hides, and teeth that had started to accumulate at the bottom. _Note to self, clean out the bag when I get back to Neverwinter. Maybe Sand can take a look at those and see if there is anything interesting he could do with them…_ He withdrew his hand with a disappointed look. "You have nothing I can use." Looking up, he pointed behind me. "What about him?"

I glanced to where he was pointing, surprised to see Bishop standing there. Somehow the boy's presence had knocked out my perception of the rest of the world and I hadn't heard him walk up. _Not a good thing for someone in my line of work_, I thought as Bishop stepped forward.

"What _about_ me?" he asked, with the beginnings of anger in his voice.

Feeling as though it was important even though I couldn't understand, I asked Bishop to let him look. After leveling me a long look, he finally turned back to the boy. "Fine. Try to take anything, and I'll take both your hands as trophies. Got it?"

"Ah, such a way with children," Khelgar muttered from behind me, and despite the situation, a tiny smile quirked my lips.

"Your knife - it is... different. I believe it can save me."

Bishop looked at Marcus with interest and drew the knife out of the bag. "My skinning knife? I've had this thing forever, there's nothing special about it."

I stepped forward to take a look. It appeared to be just a regular skinning knife to me. "What's so special about that knife?" I asked curiously.

"There is a power sleeping in it, but it will not awaken while it is in your hands." _Like anything would be stupid enough to sleep while in his hands_ I thought. _Or anyone…_ my body whispered suggestively. I glared mentally at my libido. _I merely mean that if any thing or one __**were**__ to find themselves helpless and in his hands, they might not survive it._

Despite my thoughts, I calmly looked at them both. "I see. Bishop, give him the knife." Seeing he was about to argue with me I held up a hand. "Just give him the knife," I said tiredly.

He glared at me defiantly. "No. Unless this knife is going between his eyes, it's staying with me."

Taking a step closer to him, I tried a different tactic. Asking hadn't worked so I resorted to the next best thing… Bribery.

"Keep traveling with me, and I'll make sure you're rewarded a hundred times over."

He looked at me, as if weighing the offer. "That so? Fine... but I'm not going to forget this, _or_ how much you owe me."

Rubbing my temples in an attempt to sooth the pounding, I nodded distractedly. Grudgingly, Bishop handed the knife to the boy. Without another word, we started in the direction that Alaine had indicated.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 8

"Zeeaire has foretold your coming, _Kalach-Cha_. She sent me here to end you."

I groaned. _What is it with the overly dramatic bad guys? It feels like I'm in some horrible dock-side play sometimes…_Still, I knew that we could all use a rest. It was a long battle up to the cave leading into the githyanki base and any time I could buy us would help in the long run. Pasting a smile on my face, I forced my voice into politeness, as if chatting with a friend over a drink, instead of a green planar that wanted to kill me.

"I'm surprised you're talking to me. Most githyanki just attack."

"I enjoy knowing my prey, _Kalach-Cha. _I find it sweetens the taste of their death. Zeeaire allows me this luxury."

I inwardly winced at the grating sound of her voice. "And who might you be?" I asked with false interest, my eyes attempting to discreetly take in how men she had with her.

"My name is unimportant. You need only know that Zeeaire has granted me the honor of killing the _Kalach-Cha_ and taking your head as a trophy back to the Astral Plane."

_Keep her talking…_ "Zeeaire. I keep hearing that name. Who is Zeeaire?"

Pride was clear in the gith's voice. "Zeeaire is a Sword Stalker of the highest order. She is favored by the Lich Queen and has slain countless enemies. We Sword Stalkers are an elite order, tasked by the Lich Queen to recover our silver swords that have been lost and hunt the fools that steal them."

"Do your swords get stolen often?" I asked, her arrogance pulling my attention away from strategizing and back to her.

She looked slightly confused, as if she didn't understand how I could not know. "Silver swords are the Lich Queen's sacred gift to her knights. Many outsiders covet their power. Their theft is the highest crime an outsider can commit."

"So stealing a silver sword is worse than killing the githyanki who possesses it?"

"'Course. But both crimes are still punishable by death."

"But if stealing one is the highest crime, why is it punished the same as a lesser crime… Wouldn't that make both crimes of equal stature?"

She stared at me for a moment as she tried to sort through my logic. Looking behind her I saw one of her men's lips start to twitch. _ Ah, one of them has a sense of humor. It will be a pity to have to kill that one._

Her cheeks started to flush with anger as she almost worked out my meaning. "Lass…" Khelgar said softly behind me in warning. Giving him a quick apologetic smile I changed subjects. "Most of the githyanki I've encountered are female. Why is that?"

Again, she stared at me, confused at the abrupt change of path. _For some reason I'm thinking she didn't get to her position by being the brightest toad in the pond…_

"Githyanki men typically serve the Lich Queen from the Astral home," she stated finally. Looking over my companions, she sneered."You travel with and lead male servants. Do you not find them too fickle and weak of mind for anything but simple tasks?"

Immediately there was much grumbling behind me. I couldn't make out what Khelgar was saying but Bishop was clear enough."Well, I say we put that theory to the test... right now."

I glanced back over them slowly, as if considering what she had said. Before turning back to her, I took the opportunity to give the men a warning look.

I allowed a small smile to flick across my lips and gave a suggestive chuckle. "Men have their uses."

The gith leader suddenly looked intrigued. "Yes, they do. I have been away from the Astral home for some time and I have not..._ indulged_ myself." _Eww eww ewwww, _my brain whined as my skin crawled.

I withheld a shudder as she looked over my companions once more, eyes passing quickly over Khelgar, lingering on Casavir before finally stopping on Bishop. A lecherous smile slid onto her lips as her eyes slid down his form. "Perhaps your human servant, the tall, dark one, would suffice. Give him over to me willingly and I can offer you a faster, painless death."

I glanced back at him. "What do you say ranger? Wanna tumble the green chick?"

He glared at me, disgusted. "You can't _possibly _pay me enough... and even if you could, I'd need a few kegs of Duncan's ale first."

Facing her again, I gave an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, ya can't have him."

I could feel Bishop seething behind me. "Glad we understand each other. I'll never be that desperate," he said gruffly. He paused as if a thought struck him. "And if I am, go ahead and kill me."

"With pleasure," Casavir muttered so lowly I almost didn't hear him.

Choking back a snort, I once more pasted that pleasant smile on my face. "Well, it has simply been lovely chatting with you, but I do believe it's time for you to die now.

Her eyes widened at my audacity and her voice came out in a high scream. "Slay the _Kalach-Cha._ For Zeeaire!"

"Zeeaire!" screamed the githyanki in unison as they flourished their weapons. _Ugh… I was right. A really, really bad play._

Before we could engage in battle, I watched as another gith ran up from the dark corridor behind her. There was fear on his face and he was panting. "There is a problem," he gasped, looking back over his shoulder as a piteous scream echoed down the hall.

"Handle it. I am not finished here," she barked at the messenger, before signaling her men to attack.

A grim smile froze on my lips as I raised my blade in a mocking salute. "Come on boys… Time to dance."

*******

_Demons and constructs and giths, oh my! _ I thought as I rested my head against the cool stone wall. _As soon as we get the girl back, I'm locking myself in my room for a week. Certainly the world can last that long with out me, right? Right?? _Feeling a heavy hand on my shoulder, I jerked around, torn out of my thoughts. Casavir stood next to me, concern on his face.

"My lady, are you injured? You seem a bit distracted."

I slid down the wall at my back, leather armor scrapping against stone as I came to a stop with a thump. Drawing my knees to my chest, I rested my head on them. I peered up at Casavir with a weak smile. "No, I'm not injured. Just tired and anxious to get Shandra and return to Neverwinter." I gave a slightly bitter laugh. "You could say it has been a long month for me."

He nodded in understanding. "My lady-" he began haltingly as he knelt down next to me.

"Kathrynn," I interrupted. Casavir looked at me confused. I smiled encouragingly at him. "My name is Kathrynn."

A small smile played over his lips and he nodded. "Very well, Kathrynn. I wanted to tell you that I was impressed on how you handled Mephasm. I know how difficult it can be to stand in the face of such evil and come away unscathed, especially when forced to make such deals."

I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering what had happened.

We had dispatched several groups of succubi and charmed githyanki soldiers as we traveled down that long corridor. I had snuck ahead to scout and found three more succubi teasing an attractive man that seemed to be trapped in a circle. Using my bow I was able to quickly dispatch one of the nuisances and engage the remaining two. Desperately I tried to bring them down before the men reached me. I fought more viscously than I had ever before, using attacks that still made sick to think of. Very quickly the two women fell, their shapely bodies crumpling into lifeless heaps. When my companions found me, I was on my knees trying to catch my breath, and trying not to think about the blood and thicker things that covered me from head to foot.

Casavir had started forward as if to berate me for going in alone, but surprisingly it was Bishop who held him back. _Smart man; knows you should never argue in front of the enemy. Tends to make it hard for them to take you seriously._ After a few minutes on my knees and the trapped man watching with interest, I finally rose and walked toward him.

He had watched my approach with a pleasant smile on his face, and when he spoke, his words were gracious and dignified. Even though Casavir stood at my shoulder like a worried hen, whispering things about not trusting devils, this one gave me no reason to distrust him. He had answered all my questions as well as he could, and well as providing me with his True Name. Knowing what power that gave me over him, I set him free without a second thought.

The paladin had not been happy that the continuation of our journey had depended on a devil. Even though there was no other choice, he had been strangely quiet up until now. It wasn't until Bishop and Khelgar went to strip some of the bodies we had left behind that he spoke.

Pulling myself back to the present, I chuckled dryly at his words and shook my head. "Evil, eh?" At his confused look, I shook my head again before leaning it back on the cool stone wall and closing my eyes. "What is evil to you exactly Casavir? Is evil the githyanki who hunt us, trying to get back a treasured item that was stolen from them? Is evil the Luskans who try to infiltrate the city in an attempt to sate their desire for power? Or is evil a being that made no move to harm us, dealt with us fairly, and who just happened to come from the lower planes?"

The silence stretched thin and finally I opened my eyes to look at him. His eyes looked into to mine for several long moments before he finally blinked and nodded. "Point taken, my lady."

As he started to rise to his feet I placed my hand on his knee to stop him. "Casavir, you must understand something. While you are welcome to travel with me as long as you wish, there are times when I will need help from dark corners. If that's not something you can handle, then perhaps the best place for you is not at my side." I looked at him, my face serious, and all hints of my normal lightness gone.

He nodded slowly and rose to his feet. Holding a hand out, he helped me to mine. Without releasing my hand from his warm grasp, he made a small bow. "I would see this through to the end my lady, as long as it pleases you."

"Well now, isn't this just touching... A paladin swearing vows to a little thief. You best be careful holy man, or you might just get tarnish on your halo."

I looked over Casavir's shoulder to find Bishop leaning against the wall with a sneer on his face. He was angry for some reason and the emotion made his amber eyes burn brightly. I pulled my hand back from Casavir's grasp and folded my arms casually over my chest. Matching my posture to his own, I gazed at him, one eyebrow raised in challenge. "Tell me Bishop, which bothers you more. The fact he has one, or that yours is barbed and only held up by your horns?"

Khelgar came around the corner in time to catch my jab, and had to stop suddenly for a suspicious coughing fit. Bishop glared at me for a moment before his sliding his normal mocking smile on to his face.

"But little Kat, if I had horns, I wouldn't be as concerned as to why you ran off without us. Are you so hungry for battle that you couldn't wait for us?"

I glowered at him darkly, knowing full well what he was doing. Brushing myself off, I gathered my weapons. "We need to move now if we want to get to Shandra." _Hopefully they will remember why we are here and let this subject drop._ When I didn't hear the clomp of booted feet behind me I stopped. Turning, I saw that all three men were staring at me expectantly. _No such luck_, I groaned to my self.

"Yes, that is something I meant to ask you about. Why did you not wait for us? You could have been killed." Concern and disapproval fought a war on Casavir's face, and Khelgar just looked worried.

Leveling another glare at Bishop, I caught the wicked gleam in his eye. _And the truth shall set you free… or make several very strong men rather angry at me at least._ Sighing, I shot them a sheepish smile. "All I can say is that I would much prefer to be on this side of your weapons, rather than on the receiving end."

Bishop's gloating smile widened as the two fighters spoke at once.

"What do you mean by that exactly?"

"Come now lass, ya know we would ne'r harm ya."

"Not willingly, at least."

They looked at me for a moment, waiting for me to explain. I saw Bishop's lips move and although I couldn't hear him, I knew what he had said by the comprehension that dawned on Casavir's face.

"You honestly thought those she-demons would turn us against you? Do you really think we are so weak as to not be able to see beyond their charms?"

I sighed, not liking the direction this conversation was going. I shrugged. "I don't think you're weak at all. I just know how charms can work on people, no matter how strong their will. I didn't want to take that chance."

Casavir was still indignant, as if my doubts were a personal slap in the face. "Kathrynn, surely you know that my vows would-"

I interrupted him with a shake of my head. "Your vows don't make you any less a man, Casavir," I told him gently. My voice hardened, leaving no more room for argument. "I did what I needed to. Their charms have no possible way to affect me, so I decided to remove them from the equation."

Casavir opened his mouth again but was stopped this time by Khelgar, who had been strangely silent through all of this. "She has a point lad. Ya can't deny it."

His jaw tightened to a hard line. Suddenly his eyes narrowed. "You haven't included Bishop in this conversation. Why is that?" he demanded.

The man in question stepped out from behind them, smirking. Giving the paladin a look that was slightly triumphant, he threw dark suggestion into his words. "Maybe because she knows me better than you think, paladin."

As Casavir's head shot to me, I couldn't help but mark my mental scoreboard. _Three points to Bishop..._ "All I know is you have so many demons in your past, one more wasn't going to make a difference." Sighing, I turned back to the path. "Come on, let's go get the girl and be done with this mess."

_Alright, and what have we learned for this little lesson,_ I thought as we walked along in silence. _Well, we learned that succubi are bad, Casavir will finally use my name if startled enough, and oh yeah, Bishop's an ass._


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 9

Hiding in the shadows, we all peered into the room beyond. Githyanki soldiers stood a respectful distance from the huge glowing orb dominated the center of the room and was pulsing with an otherworldly force.

"Well lass, how are ya wanting to do this?"

I studied my companions while I thought up a plan. Khelgar was nearly radiating excited tension. There was nothing he loved more than a good fight, unless of course, it was large quantities of alcohol consumed before or after a good fight. Glancing at Casavir, I noticed his visage had settled back into its normal polite mask. _Why is it, of all my companions, the paladin is the one I can never read? The only time he wears a different expression, is when he is dealing with Bishop, and even then its only one of irritation._ And what of Bishop? I glanced it him, noting that while his body language conveyed he was bored, his fingers kept tightening their grip on his bow unconsciously.

The plan suddenly hit me. "Alright. I'll take care of hitting the portal with the stone that Mephasm gave us. That should bring it down and allow us access to Zeeaire. Until then, everyone just follow my lead."

"That's it?"

"Yep"

Leaving my weapons sheathed, I walked casually toward the door. They flanked me, weapons ready. I turned back to them shaking my head. "We're not going in like we are going to fight, so ease up on the hostility, got it?"

Khelgar gaped at me. "What, we're jes gonna waltz in?"

I shrugged. "Pretty much. Trust me. Something I've learned about these guys is they like to hear themselves talk. So, we are going to keep her talking until the time is right, and _then_ we can move on to the wet work."

"Oh this is going to be amusing," I heard a dark voice mutter. Ignoring him, I turned to face the entryway and calmly walked through it as if I didn't half of Faerûn trying to kill me.

As soon as I had strolled beyond the entry, a dozen githyanki soldiers turned to me with their weapons drawn. Casually, I swept past them, remembering what the Sword Stalker had said about the status of males on their planet. Seeing Shandra in a cage toward the back, I gave her a small nod.

_Ok, she seems relatively unharmed, so I can afford to be nice… _Positioning my self before the portal, I smiled pleasantly at the woman within.

"Though these demons were unanticipated, your arrival was not. I have seen it burning brightly in my visions for some time." I winced inwardly. Her voice grated on my ears, and the portal caused an odd metallic distortion which just made it worse.

"How long did you think you could escape us? You have stolen our shards, defiled them with your touch, and now you will die,_ Kalach-Cha_," she hissed, placing all the anger of her people in those words.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to get in line for that. I already have a two year waiting list on people wanting to kill me. So, to save us both the time and hassle, why don't you just hand over the girl and we can kill each other later, hmm?"

I gave her my brightest smile as Zeeaire's jaw tightened with anger. "Know that you are in no position to demand _anything_ from me," she snapped.

I shrugged indifferently. "It wasn't a demand, just a reasonable request," I said easily. "Just wanted to give you a chance to save face."

"You will answer for your crimes... along with this frail thing that carries the last of the Jerro blood." Her voice rose shrilly towards the end, making her threat almost comical. _Ah, it seems as though she doesn't like it when people don't take her seriously. I think I can safely say the score is now one to nutten. _

"Yeah? Well, see, that's where I have the problem. Maybe if I knew what I'd done wrong, we could settle this - I might even give up the shards willingly."

She stared at me, as if she couldn't figure out if I was serious. Realizing she was looking confused, she attempted to set her face back into a stern mask. "You do not know your crimes? Very well, let me recount them."

Zeeaire stood up straighter, towering over me as thought she was a judge delivering the sentence. "You have slaughtered many of our people, and you hold in your possession relics sacred to the githyanki a... silver sword of our people - fragments of it."

"It seems a lot of trouble for just one blade," I said softly, allowing a wealth of implications to slip into my words.

She paused, as if trying to think of how to play this off. "You put too much importance on your actions and your crime. You have nothing that other thieves have not stolen before." She looked at me disdainfully. "You think there is something special or unique about your crime - or the shards you carry? There is not."

_Wonder if the paladin's truth sensor is going crazy, because mine certainly is._

"Sounds to _me_ like you're protesting too much."

"You dare to presume to know more than I about this matter? You know nothing of what you have done nor the importance of what you carry!" Zeeaire's voice was a high scream by the end and in my mind; I added another point to the scoreboard.

I gazed at her, cocking my head to the side as if I didn't understand. "So these shards are part of something _more_ than a silver sword?"

There was a ripple of murmurs through the room and I saw out of the corner of my eye, some of the githyanki warriors were looking discontent. There came sounds of a scuffle next to me as one soldier pushed another forward.

"Zeeaire, forgive my words, but... I, too, felt the power from the shards when the _Kalach-Cha_ entered - and when I gathered the shards you carry."

The gith that pushed the first one stepped into view. "As did I. This seems a matter greater than us - our Queen should know of it. It has been too long since we have sent word to her of our... actions here." _Uh oh, it seems like Zeeaire has been a naughty girl. Wonder what Queenie would have to say about that…_

"Ignore the words of the criminal, they are deceptions... she seeks to manipulate you as our illithid masters once did, do **not** allow it," she screeched as the murmurs grew louder.

"Looks like she lost some face - I think we may be able to count on some defections if things turn nasty," Bishop whispered with pleasure.

I kept my eyes trained on Zeeaire as if I didn't hear the muttering. "So anyways, what do you want with Shandra?"

She glared at me condescendingly, "Why, the same thing _you_ want from her. She is the last known descendent of one who stole a silver sword from us."

"But Ammon Jerro died long ago," I reminded her.

"Yes, the lives of humans are all too brief. But their sins are passed to their kin, and so has Ammon Jerro's crime passed to his descendant."

"How convenient," I said politely, "but why are you looking for his sword after _**all**_ this time?"

"His _sword_? The blade he stole from us was broken - instead of prying the blade from his hands, we must hunt down the mess of his crime!"

Having had enough of my taunting, she unsheathed her sword and pointed it at me. "Now you will face your punishment, _Kalach-Cha._ It is why your path brought you here... and why the shards you carry will soon be added to mine."

"Alright, I'm ready - so how do you plan to kill me?" I asked as if it didn't matter to me which way she chose.

"If you were in the Astral plane, the Lich Queen would see that you were slowly tortured, killed, and then raised again for countless cycles... your crime merits _many_ deaths."

"Hmmm… You aren't the Lich Queen, so do you really have the authority to carry out my sentence?"

She stared down her nose at me, arrogance dripping off of every word. "Among the githyanki none but the Lich Queen have more authority than I."

"My offer of mercy is this - I will grant a swift, painless death for you and your companions, if you freely hand over the shards you have taken."

I turned to my companions as if considering her offer. After giving them a small grin, I faced her once more. Shrugging my shoulders apologetically, I turned her down. "Sorry, but I just don't see how that's a win – win situation. Personally, dieing wasn't really high on my list of things to do today, so I'm afraid I'm gonna have to say no."

Her eyes flashed with anger, and she raised her hand in a powerful gesture. I felt my belt pouch give a mighty jerk and the shards inside floated out to hover in the air between us. "Fool! Did you really think you could keep such relics of my people? They do not belong to you."

A puzzled look flashed across her face. "Odd, I have all the ones you carry... yet it seems you still possess one." Again, she made a gesture, this time with more force.

Pain flared through my body, every nerve feeling as though it was on fire. Gritting my teeth I managed to stay of my feet for a few moments. With a look of concentration Zeeaire gestured again. An agonized cry escaped my lips as I collapsed to my knees. All the pain was rushing to meet in one place; right under the scar on my chest.

"You have a piece of the Sword inside of you," she whispered in awe. Steeling her face, she gestured once more.

As the flames converged in my chest, agony bowed my back. I could see my men standing there behind me, helpless to do anything but watch. I clawed at my leather armor, struggling to open it as the pressure began to build. Ripping it open at the neck, a brilliant light shot out of my wound and then, just as suddenly as it began, the pain stopped.

There was yelling all around from my men and Shandra as I knelt there panting, my heart relearning how to beat. Regaining my strength, I raised my head slowly, with murder in my eyes. My voice was husky but somehow she heard it over the din. "Hey Zeeaire…"

She looked at me, as if surprised I could still speak. "Catch." I whispered, and threw the extra-dimensional stone into her portal.

She knew what was coming, she saw it in my eyes as I casually tossed her her doom. She started screaming as it connected, the portal falling in around her ears. Desperately she leapt at me, weapon drawn.

With what little strength I had left, I rolled out of the way. She moved to swing at me, but found herself blocked by two very angry men with large weapons. I watched helplessly as they fought, trading blows and soaking the ground with blood.

An arrow swooshed by, uncomfortably close to my ear, to find a home in her flesh. Feeling a warm presence at my back, I looked up to see Bishop standing over me. I laughed softly to myself. He had managed to get a better firing position, while at the same time, guarding my unprotected back. _And you'll never be able to get him to admit it._

After what seemed like hours, she finally fell. Hauling myself to my feet, I walked over to her dieing form with as much dignity as I could muster.

Her breath rattled in her chest, and her form was withering beneath my eyes. "You... think this is over? You are wrong, _Kalach-Cha,_ and I hope the pain you have brought here is revisited upon you a thousandfold. The Lich Queen will know of my fall... yes... but it will be too late. What comes for you will be revenge enough."

"So I am doomed, what else is new? Enlighten me - your life's running out."

"We were never the ones you had to fear. In defying us, you have harmed your own people - and everything on your plane. The githyanki will strike at you no longer - this was the last of our strongholds devoted to the recovery of the shards... there will be no more attacks from my people, because it will serve no purpose... you have sealed your fate."

She paused to take another rattling breath. "Evil wakes, _Kalach-Cha,_ and in killing me, you now stand alone against the King of Shadows."

I shook my head at her, my voice cold. "And I will bring him down, alone if that is what need be."

"I will see you in death, _Kalach-Cha_ I do not think I... will have to wait long."

"Whatever. Now will you die already?"

She took one last painful sounding breath and lay still. I glared down at the dead gith below me. "Bitch," I muttered, and gave the body an angry kick. At that, Bishop broke out in a deep throated chuckle while Casavir stared at me, shocked.

"My lady, I know you're angry, but you should at least have respect for her in death. She died well and doesn't deserve this treatment."

My shoulders stiffened in anger. _After what he just saw, he has the nerve to tell __**me**__ that? I wonder how he would feel if it was his still beating heart being ripped out of his chest. Maybe we should try,_ I thought darkly. Keeping my back to him, I walked over to Shandra's cage.

"So," I asked tiredly, "you think this time you can stay un-kidnapped long enough so I can get my armor fixed?"

She gave me a small, tight smile and backed away from the cage door so I could work on the lock. Before long I heard the soft click that I had been waiting for. I swung the door open and she stepped down into freedom.

She gave a heavy sigh and looked at me wearily. "I'm getting _so_ tired of this. You have to let me save you sometime, or else I'll never be able to pay you back."

"Oh, there'll be plenty of time for you to pay _all_ of us on the way back to Neverwinter." Bishop said suggestively, running his eyes appreciatively over Shandra's form.

"What? You all _put _me in danger! I'm not paying you a damn thing," she said defiantly, arms folding stubbornly over her chest.

A dark smile spread over Bishop's face. "Well then you'll be paying me another way. My bedroll's a little cold at night - I'm thinking you can fix that."

Khelgar gave a grunt and glared at the ranger warningly. "Maybe you'd best shut your mouth, ranger. Your words are starting to anger me."

He looked at the dwarf with mock concern. "What, did you want a go too? I could send her over when I'm done."

Angry as I was already, my temper was at its breaking point. "If you don't watch your tongue, Bishop, I'm cutting it off," I snapped waspishly. Giving him a pointed look, I tried to make him remember what happened the last time we had this conversation.

He glanced over, a knowing light in his eyes. "Jealousy's thick in this little band, I see. Don't worry; I haven't forgotten _your _pretty face, fair Kat," he taunted in that silky voice of his.

Before I could respond with an appropriately cutting remark, Casavir spoke up. "I won't have you speaking to her or anyone else that way, Bishop."

"Oh, really, what a surprise," he drawled, annoyance clear in his voice. "How'd you like it if I left you here in Luskan territory with your righteousness to keep you company?"

Having retrieved my shards and Zeeaire's off her body earlier I was ready to leave. "Enough of this, let's just head back now. Of course anyone who would rather stay here with the dead is welcome to. Either way, I'm leaving." Without waiting for the others, I headed back the way we came.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 10

The sun was midway in the western sky as we left the cave, but after all that time in darkness, it was painfully bright. We stood there a few moments, blinking and breathing in the cool, fresh air. Taking one last deep breath of the clean breeze, I started down the slope, taking care to disarm any of the fire traps we had missed on the way up.

The concentration it took to search for and disable the deadly traps quieted my mind. Nothing else existed when I worked; every physical sense was alive, and as keen as any elf's. Finding them had become almost child's play for me. It was as if I had a sensor in my mind that alerted me when one was near, and I took pride in that. I knew I had gained that ability on my own, and the recent weeks had just put a sharper edge on those skills.

The learning process to get to this point was not easy however. I have received more than my share of burnt fingers from a botched disarm job. I had the scars to prove it. Even in failure came experience though. My subconscious has come to recognize that sinking feeling that something isn't right, before the fireball is even let lose. I have been able to dodge most of effects I have come across recently, but I couldn't get to comfortable with that. The more I adventured, the more difficult the tricks and traps became.

_A cocky rogue is a dead rogue, and a dead rogue means they weren't good enough. _I refuse to let that be me.

After about an hour of walking we came to the base of the path. My senses still in their heightened state and I could hear the happy burble of the stream we had noticed while on the path. I led my companions forth in silence until we reached a clearing in the woods that was far enough from the beaten path.

Mind still calm from the trip down, I told them, "I know there is some light left, but I doubt any of us really has the drive to push on today. I say we camp here for the night and get an early start in the morning."

Everyone set up their bed in preparation of the night, and Casavir, gentleman that he was, gave his bedroll to Shandra and fashioned himself one out of his cloak. As I was setting up my own resting place, I heard the clank of metal boots come up to me. "My lady?"

I glanced up at him wordlessly. Seeing he had my attention he continued. "I wished to speak with you about what happened in the caves…"

Anger came flooding back, melting away the stillness in my mind. Remembering the pain and helplessness that followed Zeeaire's attack made it burn all the hotter. My eyes narrowed. "Well, isn't that nice for you, but I really don't want to talk about it." Pushing past him, I went to do anything that would keep me busy. Seeing that Khelgar was having difficulties starting the fire, I strode over to take over. _Maybe I could just direct some of this anger on the kindling and we could just skip the flint and tinder._

******

I sat by the small flame I had gotten going, carefully feeding it small twigs and sticks. Soft footsteps sounded behind me and Shandra lowered herself on to the log next to me. She glanced around, not looking at me as she spoke. "I… I wanted to thank you for coming after me." I nodded silently, still staring into the fire. Not getting the hint that I didn't wish to talk to anyone, she continued in a friendly voice.

"You certainly have an interesting band with you. That man Casavir seems friendly though. That other one, Bishop I think, seems kinda like a jerk though. By the way, where is he? I haven't seen him in a while."

I glanced around and found that she was right. Most likely he went off into the woods as was his habit. Normally when we camped for the evening he disappeared as we set up, and didn't return until morning. Somehow though, it really didn't surprise me. He seemed to much like a wild animal to let his guard down enough to sleep in a group.

Seeing that she was getting no response from me, she looked for something that would get a reaction. Noticing my torn armor, she leaned closer. "That must have really hurt; I've never seen anybody rip through leather like that." Shandra said softly as she peered a little more carefully at it. "By the way, did you know you're bleeding?"

I looked down at my chest and gave a disgusted growl. It looked like in my haste to get the armor open, I had dug deep furrows in my chest with my nails. The leather must have rubbed on them on our way back down the slope and opened the wounds again. I must admit, I was surprised that I hadn't felt them before this. _Probably because you were to busy stewing over the children you call companions, _I thought. Scowling, I gently probed the cuts, wincing as my fingers came away red. _Why is it things only hurt once you see the blood?_

Seeing the look on my face and my wet fingers, Casavir walked over to us. "My lady?" he said as he laid a hand tentatively on my shoulder.

"What?" I snapped, still angry with him from earlier.

"I… I could heal that for you if you wish," he offered gently.

Roughly, I shoved his hand off my shoulder with my wet fingers, leaving a red smear on his skin. "I don't need any help," I growled. Grabbing a clean bit of cloth from my bag, I stormed off into the woods, hopefully heading in the direction of the stream we saw on our way down.

******

I realized rather quickly that storming through the woods wasn't a good idea, as one tended to trip over things. After picking myself up off the ground and gathering what remained of my pride, I continued at a more sedate pace. The quiet of the trees normally have a calming effect on me, but today, nothing was normal.

_Why am I so angry?_ I wondered. _Granted, having this many people wanting to kill you can strain a person; but usually I'm better at not taking it out on people._ As I tried to work out my thoughts, I found that I had finally reached the stream. _Hmm, seems that Daeghun's training was good for more than teaching me how to hide in shadows. He would be proud,_ I started to think before getting a flash of sadness. My foster father and I were never close, and while it taught me my independence, there were times when I regretted it.

Preferring the anger to sadness, I shoved those thoughts down. Instead I thought about the look Casavir gave me when I had kicked Zeeaire's lifeless body. Irritation rose in me again as I shrugged out of my armor and threw it on a large rock nearby. Clad in my light linen undershirt, I knelt by the water and used the cloth I had brought to roughly scrub at the wounds on my chest.

Red tinged water dripped down my front, soaking my shirt. I realized I was being to rough with the wounds as they began to bleed more freely, but the pain helped me focus. Muttering darkly, I didn't hear the footsteps until a waterskin dropped beside me. Startled, I looked up into a scowling face.

"Use that," Bishop said coolly.

I gave him an ironic look. "Thanks, I was wondering what I would wash in," I said sarcastically as I dipped the cloth back into the stream.

He watched the blood tainted water run down my skin for a few moments before snatching the cloth away from me. "Hey - " I started, before he silenced me with an annoyed glare.

"If you want to rip them open further, then be my guest. If not, then be silent, woman."

Fuming, I stood with a huff, watching him narrowly. He had rinsed the blood soaked rag in the stream before picking up the waterskin. As he uncorked the top, the sharp tang of strong alcohol stung my nostrils. After pouring a hefty measure on the rag, he thrust the skin at me. "Hold that," he said gruffly as he peeled my wet shirt off the cuts.

Luckily, my undershirt had lacings at the neck so having undone those earlier gave him clear access to the wounds while leaving my modesty intact… mostly. Embarrassed and confused by this previously unseen side of Bishop, I looked everywhere but at him, my body all to aware of his nearness. Warmth radiated off his skin, leaving trails of pleasant fire as his fingertips brushed against the top of my breast.

_Burning! Not good!_

I had been so distracted by the sensation of his fingers, I didn't even notice that he had brought the cloth up and pressed it against to wounds. My eyes were wide when they snapped back to his, and I couldn't stop the hiss that escaped my lips as the alcohol burned away anything that could cause an infection.

_What the hell is he using, acid?!_

As he held it firmly against my skin, the burning increased until without conscience thought, I raised a fist and punched him in the shoulder. Quicker than a striking snake, he grabbed my wrist before it could retreat. With a growl, he yanked hard; throwing me off balance and making me stumble into his chest.

Pinning my wrist in a vise like grip behind me, he used it to haul me closer. Once I was firmly trapped against his hard form, he leaned down, the day's worth of growth on his jaw scraping roughly over my cheek. Preparing for the tongue lashing that was certain to come, my heart nearly stopped when he chuckled darkly instead.

"You know, if you like it rough, you could have just said so," he whispered seductively, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of my ear.

…

_Hello! Brain to tongue, come in tongue. Say something!!_

"Gulp?"

…

_Impressive. Will the wonders of wit ever cease to amaze?_

My heart was hammering so hard, there was no way he couldn't feel it through my thin shirt. As I stood there frozen, he dipped his head again to hover over the jumping pulse at my throat. Taking in a deep breath like an animal learning a scent, his lips stopped a hairs breadth above my skin. He paused as if waiting for something.

Paralyzed by the sensations coursing through my veins, I couldn't move or speak. Suddenly, just as quickly as he had grabbed me, he set me free and took a step back. The wet cloth of my shirt clung to my breasts where it had been smashed between us and I shivered as the cool evening breeze blew across it, a sharp contrast to warmth I had just felt. I felt my nipples tighten painfully, pressing against the thin fabric as if demanding attention.

Shadows from the setting sun flickered over his face, making it difficult to read, but the smirk on it was clear enough. His hypnotic eyes held dark promise as they took in my body's response. Then, in one of his quicksilver mood changes he spun as if to leave.

_What is he playing at? He's probably trying to throw me off, unbalance me, just to see if he can. _

I typically find it amusing when people try to play games with me. Normally I come out on top, and they come out the fool, but this time it was different. This time, I don't know the rules and I certainly don't know the stakes. There was something unnerving about him, something that made me feel like a hunted animal, yet I couldn't help the trill of excitement that whispered in my blood. Still, I was determined not to let him win, no matter what game this was.

Finally with a shuddering breath, I went back to the rock that held my armor. Before I could pick it up though, his voice sounded behind me again. "Here."

I turned just in time to catch the roll of bandages he threw at me.

"Patch yourself up. Any assassin worth his salt could find you just from the scent of the blood. Besides… We wouldn't want to make the paladin think he failed in his healing duties, now would we?"

He seemed to back to his normal self, eyes cold and face taunting. _And so the game continues._

I leaned casually against the rock as if what had happened hadn't affected me. _Liar…_

"Know what? I really couldn't care less what would upset him right now," I said as I calmly bandaged myself as well as possible.

"Ahh," he said with mock sympathy. "Did the two of you have a lover's quarrel?"

Having patched myself up, I was slipping into my torn and stained armor. As soon as my eyes appeared through the neck I rewarded him with an icy glare. After tugging the leather into place I folded my arms in front of me. "Well," I said slowly, as if speaking to a child, "considering we are neither lover's nor in love, then no, we did not have a _lover's_ quarrel."

"Hmm, let me see. What else happened that would have thrown you into _such_ a tizzy?"

"I am **not** in a tizzy."

He cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Fine," I snapped. Refusing to look at him, I turned to gaze out over the water. "I'm pissed because he refuses to realize how the real world works. In his happy little paladin land, everything is honor and duty, and everyone abides by the rules of engagement." I paused, anger draining out of my voice, leaving it tired and world-weary. "In the real world, there are no rules. Someone hurts you, you hurt them back. They aren't going to wait for you to be ready and bow politely, they are going to try and rip your heart out while it still beats."

"Zeeaire."

"Yeah… After what she did to me herself, after all the assassins she sent after me, how can he possibly think she deserved respect in death, when she couldn't earn it in life?"

"You weren't this angry when the Luskan's came after you. Why her?" he prompted.

I glanced back at him, my guard suddenly up. He wasn't being the man I had become familiar with. Then again, maybe he was. His questions sounded like that of a concerned friend, but there was a sense of probing behind them, as if he was trying to steer me in a certain direction. _Or trying to get you to admit a weakness…_

"What is it you're trying to make me say Bishop? You want to hear why I hate her so much? Fine. She made me helpless," I hissed. "I had to watch others protect me because I couldn't do it myself. Let's just say that's not a feeling I'm comfortable with."

I stopped, realizing what I had just said. It was the truth, albeit a small one, but I had just handed it to him on a silver platter. I've met his kind before, people who slither their way into your confidence, past your guards. They learn everything there is to know about you, your hopes, your fears, your desires, and they twist them. They turn it all against you, using it to rip you open, before leaving you to the vultures.

I stared at him and saw that he knew I knew what he was doing, and I noted his pleasure that I had given in to it anyways. His amber eyes were bright under hooded lids and a taunting smile twisted his lips. _And another point goes to the ranger._

Acknowledging he had won this battle, I broke eye contact first and did what the losing side always did. I abandoned the field.

******

_Bishop watched as she retreated into twilight's shadows, carrying herself with a dignity he had never seen before. Even as she realized her mistake, she never admitted defeat. He respected that in her. He liked that she understood how things were in the real world. _

_Normally when on a job like this, he just ignored everyone, trying to get it done with as quickly as possible so he could go back to enjoying his freedom. But for some reason, he found himself looking for ways to taunt her, to try and get a reaction. Mentally he shrugged, figuring it was just that part of him that loved to get people all twisted up. _

_Or maybe you just like talking to her, a long quiet voice whispered to him._

_Coldly he slammed the door shut on the voice and instead remembered with dark humor the reaction he was able to get from her earlier. He hadn't planned to help her, but when he came upon her by the stream he couldn't help but drop the skin._

_Just because if she dies from some infection while I'm with her, Duncan will never call the debt paid, he told himself logically._

_Thinking about the chains that Duncan had around him, he scowled deeply, taking a long pull from the skin of vodka he had tossed her. As the fiery liquid burned its way to his stomach he took a deep breath. The lingering trace of her scent filled his nostrils and he felt his body tighten in response. _

_Her wet shirt had clung to her, light pink nipples obvious through the sheer cloth. He had watched as she scrubbed at the bloody cuts on her chest, the dripping water tracing lines over the tops of her breasts. When he had grabbed that damn cloth away from her, the look she gave him was artless. He searched for some hint of seduction, something that would make her into all the other women who tried to gain power by stoking the fire in a man. But… there was nothing. She had no clue the picture she presented._

_Grabbing her hadn't been part of the plan either, but when he did he couldn't help but notice the way her pulse began to flutter erratically, and when he took in her scent, how her breaths started to shudder. He smiled darkly, taking another deep breath himself as to refresh his memory. She had smelled of blood and sweat, but under that was her. A spicy mix of woman and something else, something he couldn't describe. As she had stood frozen, the amount of that something increased dramatically, calling to the dark primitive place in his soul._

_Angry that she had pulled him in that easily, he had released her roughly and although she pretended not be affected, her body told a different tale. Annoyed with himself, he had responded the only way he knew how. _

_She saw through his attack more quickly that he though she would, surprising him. Not thrown in the least, she had been quick to unsheathe the previously silent sharp tongue of hers. He chuckled to himself. I wonder what the paladin would say if he knew you could still her tongue like that. Perhaps I should tell him…_


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 11

The warmth of the tavern hit us when we opened the door. For a minute there was no reaction, until Neeshka, who had been most likely hoping we were potential marks, saw us and gave a happy squeal.

"They're back!"

Duncan's head snapped up from behind the bar and a wide grin spread over his face. When he saw we had Shandra in tow he ran out and picked her up in a huge hug. "Hey, welcome back! Glad to see you've all returned... and in one piece, no less!"

"Umm... Duncan, you might want to put her down, I think she needs to breathe."

Sheepishly he set her back down on her feet before turning to me in excitement.

"All right, out with it - what happened? Tell me the tales, the songs, the whole bit!"

I fixed him with a pointed stare. "Something you've been forgetting to mention?"

Confusion flickered over his face. "Eh? What do you mean?"

I tugged down the ripped leather to expose the top of my scar. "How about the fact that there is a shard in my chest, right under my scar. Oh, and did I mention that the githyanki just happen to have the ability to call it? Yeah… I found that out when a green chick with an annoying voice tried to rip it from my flesh."

He stared at me blankly, realization slowly draining the blood from his face. "Inside the wound on your chest? That means you've been carrying the shard around almost your entire life? I... we had no idea."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bishop walk up to us, a tankard already in his hand. "Ah... notice the stumble in his words. Your uncle has been keeping secrets, I think," he said coldly.

"Silence, Bishop," snapped Duncan.

"No, he's right. You've been keeping secrets and I suggest you start talking." I caught the triumphant look Bishop shot the other man over the rim of his tankard as he took a drink.

Duncan looked at me. "Is there someplace we can go talk about this privately?"

"No," I said firmly. "After what these people have gone through with me, I think they have the right to hear about the family skeletons."

He glanced over the room nervously, uncomfortable with the idea of telling me in front of everyone. "I don't know if I'm the best one to be telling you this, but if you've got one of those shards _in_ you, I think you've earned the right to hear everything."

"Really? You think so?" I said sarcastically.

A pained look crossed his face. "Daeghun probably already told you, but when you were an infant, West Harbor was the site of a battle, a terrible battle. The King of Shadows himself led an army of demons against the Neverwinter army, which had gathered at the village. West Harbor was struck suddenly, without warning. There was panic... confusion... villagers fleeing every which way to escape the battle."

Duncan's voice trailed off and when he continued, his voice was quiet. "But Daeghun's wife Shayla... and your mother Esmerelle did not. They stayed behind, to save you. As demons and magefire rained upon the village, they fought to reach your crib. By the time Daeghun even realized they were missing, it was too late. He could only watch from a distance as the village was consumed in the battle."

"I was told my mother died giving birth to me. So what you're actually saying is I've been lied to my entire life."

He looked at me pleadingly. "It wasn't my decision to keep what happened to your mother from you... and my brother will be furious I told you."

"I guess he... he thought it would be too much for you."

"So he figured knowing how my mother died would be to much for me, but sending me out on a suicidal mission with no information other than to find you wouldn't be. Yeah, that sounds like him." I scoffed.

"In any case, when the few that remained returned to the village, no one was alive. Except you..." Duncan's voice cracked, thick with unshed tears. "Your mother was there... so much blood and... you were clutched in her bosom, a deep wound in your chest. She'd tried to shield you, but... The shard must have cut through her and into you. No one knew how you survived. But you did, and your wound sealed itself within days, leaving the scar that you still bear."

"But if that wound was due to the shard that pierced you then, that raises many questions... And I'm afraid I'm just all out of answers."

"And no one thought that this information would be useful?" I was starting to get angry again. I knew that it had been hard to him to tell me, but finding out I have been lied to my entire life, especially by the man who always taught me to tell the truth, even when it was harsh, was to much. "You should have told me this long ago."

"Believe me, I wanted to. But my brother..."

Bishop sauntered over to us, a cocky grin on his face. "Why the long faces, you two? Somebody die? If so, sounds like a cause for celebration to me."

Duncan glared at the ranger, his look clearly saying his cheerfulness was inappropriate. My uncle glanced at me apologetically, but strangely I wasn't upset by Bishop's flippancy. I didn't want pity and seeing the sad look in Duncan's eyes made it all worse. I knew pity was one thing I would never get from the ranger, and that was oddly comforting.

"By the way, I've decided it would be in both our interests if I stay on with you," Bishop said casually.

I stared at him for a moment. _Well, that's unexpected._ I had been thinking that we could use him; a ranger always comes in handy when on a search, but I never expected him to offer. I had thought since he had made no bones about how much he hated all of us, he would jump at the first opportunity to move on.

Suspicious I asked, "And why would you want to do that?"

"What? Does a man need a reason? Come now." He tossed a dark glance to Duncan and a bit of bitterness crept into his voice. "Duncan's kind request was enough to start this, I think, why not finish it?"

I still didn't believe him. I folded my arms over my chest and stared at him, letting him see my distrust. "Other than your share of what we find, I'm not going to pay you, if that's what you're after."

"I'm hurt; you would value our friendship so lightly." I cocked an eyebrow at that; Bishop doesn't have friends, only people he uses. "I don't need more money, traveling with you is the most fun I've had in years."

"We don't need any more of _your_ help," Casavir said, a bit to quickly.

"Ah, why don't you let our leader speak for herself, "paladin," without you speaking for her, eh?"

Duncan tried to diffuse the situation, and held up a hand. "No, no. There's no need, Bishop. I'm sorry for before, but you've done more than..."

"Oh, come now, Duncan - I still _owe _you. And what better way to make it up to you than watching your kin here?" His eyes flicked to me, skimming over my body, putting an unsaid suggestion in his words. Having made his point, he looked back over to Duncan, and I could sense the pleasure he took in making him squirm. His voice dropped coldly. "After all, a debt is a debt... all the way until the end. Isn't that right?"

"And just who decides where the end is, Bishop?" I interrupted, taking a step closer to him. "Because if you decide you're done, and it gets any of them hurt, there are no woods deep enough to hide you." There was no emotion in my voice, just simple fact. He wasn't the only one who knew a bit about the woods, and I would hunt him down like a rabid dog if it came to that.

That mocking smile played on his face, his expression challenging. _But_ _was that a flicker of interest I just saw?_

Before he had a chance to respond, Shandra came over to join us. "I hate to ask... but what happens now? I can't go back to my farm, ashes and all," she asked nervously.

I took an assessing look at her. She seemed capable enough so I figured she might be of some use. _Besides, she can't be any worse than Elanee and that damn badger form. Speaking of, maybe I'll bring the elf along next time I need a hole dug…_ "You are welcome to travel with me, if you'd like."

Bishop snorted. "Why, because we need someone who's easy on the eyes?" He glanced at the paladin smugly. "That's what _I'm_ here for, I believe."

Casavir ignored Bishop and gave her a warm smile of welcome. "Very well. If she wishes to travel with us she may, as is her right."

_Her right? I know I need her to get into the Jerro Haven, but if he gets her thinking she won't have to carry her own weight, then that's just not going to work for me._

She looked surprised and slightly embarrassed by all the sudden attention. "Oh. Well, I mean, you don't have to go that far, but... uh... thanks."

Bishop gave another disdainful snort. "You've just agreed to die before your time, farm girl. So be it." After raising his tankard to her in a mock salute, he drained what was left.

A thought crossed Casavir's face. "If Shandra agrees to travel with us, the danger might be greater than within Neverwinter's walls, but that is not certain," he warned.

She glanced at the huge sword by Casavir's side before shrugging and looking hopeful. "I've a pretty decent swordarm; I should be able to defend myself."

I nodded, satisfied for now. "Alright, it's settled, she'll come with us. Now, how about we all get some food? I'm starving!"

******

_Bishop lay on his bed and glared out the window into the dark night. He didn't know why he offered to go with them; it had just slipped out before he even knew it was coming. And that look the little thief had given him. She clearly didn't trust him, and she took no pains to hide it. That alone made her smarter than her uncle, he thought with a snort. _

_But then she had the balls to threaten __**him**__. He had to admit though; there was a part of him that was interested to see exactly what would happen. The predator in him smirked, thinking how easy it would be to turn hunter into hunted. With an evil smile he thought of the rush that came with tracking down his prey, cornering it, and the look on its face as it realized it was trapped. She would be much more entertaining to hunt that the animals he normally went after. And what to do when he caught her…_

_Karnwyr's small noise broke Bishop out of his musings and he realized that neither of them had eaten yet. When everyone had sat down like one big family for a meal, he had left, disgusted by the image. He went out to the woods for a while and when he came back, the wolf came with him. Bishop's stomach growled, demanding his attention. He swung out off bed and after grabbing his dagger, went downstairs to see what he could find in the larder. _

_The ranger's leather boots didn't make a sound as he walked the hallways, passing by the doors of his companions. He had made it a point to know where everyone slept, just in case. Muffled thunder sounded from Qara's rooms and across the hall, Khelgar tried his best to drown her out with his own snores. He continued down the hall, pausing to glare daggers at the paladin's door, tempted to sneak in and slit the holy mans throat while he slept._

_A few more doors down was her room. The door stood open the barest inch and he stopped for a moment, part of him wanting to enter and watch her sleep. It wasn't as if he hadn't done it before, but normally it was the tree hugger he watched. In the city, she wasn't as aware of her surroundings and could never sense him. That and she tended to not close her robes very tightly when she was in her rooms…_

_Forcing himself to turn away, he continued down the stairs and into the kitchen. Finding a large hunk of beef left over from dinner that night he grabbed it and returned to his room. Upon arriving, he noticed his door was hanging wide open. He paused, every muscle tensed in readiness. Silently he enter his room, eyes searching everywhere for signs of an intruder. The room was empty, completely empty. _

_Swearing to himself he set the meat down and went to go look for his wolf. He didn't want some overzealous watchman to cut him down in the streets. Especially because then he would have to kill said watchman, and that tended to lead to a lot of questions he really didn't feel like answering._

_Over the years, he had formed a type of bond with the animal. From the first time he saw him, starving and snarling in the woods, his own pack attacking him, he had felt a kinship to him. He hadn't helped of course. If the wolf couldn't survive by himself, then he was no more than a liability. Bishop had watched as he took down two members of his pack and chased the remaining ones off. The ranger had set up camp quickly while he was gone, knowing the wolf would return to eat his kills. The beast did return and after several hours of staring at each other, he finally came forward to feast._

_As days turned to weeks, they came to live in an uneasy truce. They each went about their lives, coexisting if not peaceably, then at least not hostilely. After a few months, the day came when all that changed. Bishop had been struck by a poisoned arrow, a present sent by his past, and had retreated back to his camp to heal it. By the time he was able to tear the jagged head out of his flesh, the poison had a hold of him. Bleary eyed, he collapsed on to his bed roll and knew nothing but darkness for some unknown length of time._

_His sense of self preservation was strong though, and when his unconscious mind heard the crashing of the undergrowth and the roar of the dire bear, he immediately jolted up. He was slow though, to slow to survive this attack. He barely had time to raise his weapon before the heavy paw descended. _

_The blow never landed. Viscous snarls and furious roars fought in a bloody battle, soaking the ground with death. The dire bear had reared back on his back paws, kicking wildly with his front; desperately trying to dislodge the wolf that had its teeth sunk gums deep in his throat. With one final rage filled swipe, the wolf went limp, side splayed open. _

_The bear decided this was to much work for a meal and ran off, leaving bloody prints in its wake. Fighting through the poison haze, Bishop somehow had managed to patch up animal, and together, slowly, they gained their lives back. As soon as he was able to stand on his own feet again, Bishop disappeared into the deep woods, hunting for that bear. When he returned, he was carrying one of the largest pelts seen this side of the Sword Coast._

_Closing his eyes, he reached out mentally to Karnwyr and found him close. Still swearing to himself, he stalked back down the hall, following the invisible tie, and when he finally stopped, he found himself outside of __**her**__ room once more. The door was open wider this time, just wide enough for a certain animal to slip in. Sliding in himself, he silently closed the door behind him._

_There he was, that filthy mongrel, lying in her bed. For a brief moment, he couldn't see her, but the clouds covering the moon shifted and light steamed in. One pale arm was visible, thrown over the dog's shoulder as it panted happily. The ranger glared at his companion, and sensing the hostility radiating off him, it slipped out of the bed and out the door he had opened for it._

_Turning back to glare at the woman who turned his vicious wolf into an over grown puppy, he suddenly realized she was on her side, clad only in a thin sheet. The moonlight illuminated the curve of her hip and turned her skin to ivory. Her sleep tousled hair was obsidian in the night and her face was peaceful. With one hand curled under her pillow, and the other now draped over her hip, she looked serene, more at peace then he would ever be. His hungry gaze roamed over her sleeping form, noticing that the sheet she had tucked around her had slipped with the wolf's movements and he caught a tantalizing glimpse of the tops of her breasts as they rose with the gentle rhythm of her breathing. Memories of that evening by the stream flooded back in a body tightening rush._

_Shaking himself out of it, he realized just how long it had been since he had been with a woman. That must be what was causing his distraction he decided. Resolving to find a willing wench at the next town they went to, he gave her one last glance. The predator in him looked at her with distain. She still hadn't moved since before he came in. She was so oblivious, that he could have killed her many times over by now._

_Shaking his head in disgust at her lack of vigilance he turned to leave. He stopped short though when a soft, very awake voice sounded from behind him._

"_I told you the wolf would hog the bed."_

_He stared at her wordlessly as her green eyes gazed at him. He saw that she knew he had been thinking about killing her, and what disturbed him most was the lack of resentment or horror in her face. She looked…calm._

_Turning once more to leave, again he was stopped._

"_Oh, and Bishop? Shut the door on your way out please."_


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 12

"And then **I **says, 'Ain't nothing wrong with bearded women, it gives ya something to hang on to,'" Khelgar slurred loudly to Elanee.

Biting my lip to repress a laugh, I glanced at the others around our table. Neeshka's shoulders were shaking with barely suppressed mirth while Qara just looked ill. Poor Elanee though, she struggled valiantly to keep her face neural, but disapproval tightened her jaw. I shook my head with a snort. _That girl really needs to ease up. Maybe if we found her a man…or a badger…_

Hearing the door open and hiding a smile behind my mug, I glanced up to see who the new arrival was. A slender blond man stepped beyond the doorway, flanked by two guardsmen. Icy blue eyes matched the blue tunic emblazoned with the eye of Neverwinter.

Duncan paused in setting down our tankards and leaned over to me. "He is Sir Nevalle, a member of the Nine - Lord Nasher's bodyguards," he whispered, his voice implying that he was much more than just a bodyguard. Letting my gaze flick over them casually, I noticed they all wore the same grim expressions and the guardsmen were in full battle regalia.

Against my better judgment, my eyes drifted over to Bishop, wondering if they were here for him. He was sitting at his normal place in the darkest corner of the tavern, feet propped up carelessly on the table. He met my gaze with a nearly indiscernible shake of his head. It seemed that perhaps for once he wouldn't be the one in trouble. I realized I was staring at him when a smirk crept over his lips, and I quickly glanced back into my tankard.

Since last night I made a point of ignoring him, although I was all to aware of his presence. My heart had hammered when he slid silently into my room, fear and excitement mingling together in a blood pumping rush. Somehow I managed to keep still, figuring he was just there for his wolf, but still wanting to see what he would do.

After the animal had left, he stayed behind, watching me. My knuckles must have been white as they gripped the dagger under my pillow. Though my lashes I was able to watch him watch me, mixed expressions flickering on his face. There was a cold calculation, as if he was trying to decide whether to let me live or not, then it swiftly changed to an odd mix of disgust and a type of hunger. It had me shivering to think about it, and I didn't know if it was in a good way or not.

Movement caught my attention as Sir Nevalle grimly looked around the tavern, his eyes flicking dismissively over my companions and finally coming to rest on me. "There you are."

Smothering my surprise, I raised my tankard in greeting. "And so I am. What business does the Nine have with little ol' me?"

He watched me closely, his own face guarded. "I am here because Luskan has accused you of murder - an entire village, no less. Have you heard of Ember?"

I stared at him, trying to figure out what sick joke he was playing at. "Heard of it yes, murdered it, no."

His face softened almost imperceptibly, but even his courtly manners couldn't hide his disgust at the situation. "I believe you, but unless we find some means of clearing you of these charges, we will have to surrender you to them. We've signed a treaty with Luskan - they have the right to dispense low justice for any crimes committed on their soil."

"Oh, that was smart," Neeshka muttered under her breath.

Pointedly ignoring her, he continued. "I'm not turning over a loyal member of the Watch to some Luskan dog on this day or any other. Your guilt is preordained in a Luskan court." He considered me for a moment, before setting his face back into a formal mask.

"If you were a lord, knight, or even a squire, however, then matters would be different. You would be subject to high justice, and your trial would take place here in Neverwinter before Lord Nasher," he said carefully.

_I don't know if I like where this is going…_

He walked a few paces closer and lowered his voice, trying not to be heard by the rest of the tavern that was straining to hear. "I need you to go see Sir Grayson, one of Lord Nasher's most trusted knights, and become his squire. I may also send a..." he paused to clear his throat, "friend of mine... to assist you. He has proven invaluable in such cases in the past." He stopped and sighed. "Mind you, the matter must still go to trial, and if you cannot prove your innocence, then you will face execution."

At my raised brows he smiled grimly. "For now, let us deal with what we can - see Sir Grayson at once at Captain Brelaina's office. Pledging yourself to Neverwinter's service will give us time to counter these Luskan lies." A pained look crossed his face, as if afraid of my reaction to what came next. "And until you answer for these charges, the gates of the city will be barred to you - seek out Grayson, but do not leave the city."

With one last searching look to make sure he was serious, I gave a small nod. Crisply gesturing to his men, he turned and walked out the door. There was momentary silence before chaos broke out.

Duncan's face was red with anger. "No way in the hells will I let those Luskans get their hands on you," he exclaimed vehemently.

As my companions all argued, I glanced around, oddly calm and somewhat amused. It didn't feel like shock, but more like a tired acceptance. There have been so many people chasing me, what was one more? It was just another drop in the bucket that had become my life. _What happens when the bucket gets full though?_ my mind whispered. _Same thing that happens with everything else, you deal with it, or deal with the consequences._

Neeshka's high voice grabbed my attention. "And we're innocent, besides. I mean, the slaughter of an entire village? That's going too far, even by Luskan standards."

"What's this about slaughter?"

Casavir had just walked in, armor fresh from being repaired and smelling strongly of metal polish. Everyone began talking at once. Catching bits of it, he strode past them all to stand in front of me, concern tightening his jaw. "My lady, what has happened?"

I took another sip of ale, before looking at him wryly. "Well, it appears I am the slayer of Ember. Supposedly, I killed everyone, to the last man, woman and child." Seeing surprise widen his eyes, I almost laughed. "I hope I left the livestock alive at least."

"My lady, if that was Sir Nevalle I just saw coming out of here, then this is no joke. He is Lord Nasher's right hand."

_I'll bet he is…_

Seeing the amusement that crossed over my face again he gripped my shoulder painfully, giving me a little shake. "What is wrong with you, don't you understand what is happening?"

It wasn't like Casavir to handle me in such a way and surprise made me respond as if he were someone else. I stared at his white knuckled grip my shoulder before moving to his eyes. I let him see that all the humor and life had drained, leaving only the cold emptiness that I kept locked away except for when I fought. He released me and took a startled step back as a cold, mocking voice broke in.

"Oh, I think she understands perfectly well paladin, the question is, do you?" Bishop sat forward, feet sliding off the table with a soft thud.

"I believe I know the laws of this city better than you, Bishop."

"I can believe that. I hear you've had a brush with the law, and then suddenly you disappeared. Was that because you knew what the law says about murderers?" The ranger's face was smug as he goaded the other man. I would have to make it a point to talk to him later, to find out what he was talking about. _If I'm alive later that is._

Casavir's face went purple with rage and with two steps toward the ranger; he had his sword half drawn.

Duncan rudely shoved through the crowd of patrons to stand between the two men. "No, you will not shed blood in my inn! If you want to act like animals, take it outside!" he snarled, angrier than I had ever seen him.

Sal spoke up from behind the bar. "Uh... Duncan, looks like we have a guest."

"Oh, as if the day couldn't get any worse." Duncan spun to the door, still furious. "What do you want, Sand?"

The moon elf stood stock still, looking, for the first time I had seen it, extremely uncomfortable. "I am here to help you - and your kin, actually."

"Oh, _really?_ And what's the price? If it's more than a half-copper, you can see yourself out," Duncan snapped.

"No, I... seem to have been given an ultimatum, in fact. I have heard of your... troubles with Luskan." Noticing that I was still seated, he strode over and took the vacated chair opposite me. He was quiet for a moment, as if unsure how to proceed. Finally, with his mouth set in a grim line he bluntly said, "Know that if you are sent to Luskan, you will be killed. I realize you may find my sincerity difficult to believe, but allow me to act on your behalf."

He looked me squarely in the eyes, trying to convince me of his sincerity. "There are laws, and there is right and wrong. While I believe you are quick to take liberties with the law, I do not believe you are guilty of this..."

I have come to realize in my short life that help often comes from unexpected quarters. Help from the dry, sarcastic wizard I had come to know though Duncan certainly fit into the unexpected category. Staring back into his earnest face, I nodded slowly. "Alright wizard, what exactly are we up against?" Slightly widened eyes were his only indication of surprise at my willingness to accept his help.

"Well, at best, they will put you on trial - or what seems to be one, then execute you. At worst, they will dispense with the courtroom mockery and execute you as soon as you step within the gate. And when I say "execute," do not think it will be one clean chop of a headman's axe... Luskans have all sorts of inventive ways for executing prisoners that is not best to describe on a full stomach." He paused to smile briefly when I wrinkled my nose in disgust. "Fortunately, becoming a squire is enough for our needs. And I believe you have already been told about someone who can help you... Sir Grayson, yes?"

When I nodded, he continued. "Let me join with you. I have considerable experience with these matters - " his voice lowered confidentially, "and foiling Luskan plots is something I relish."

"Ah, well, you and Bishop should get along swimmingly then at least," I muttered.

"Hardly."

Casavir stood, looking at Sand thoughtfully. "I think we should give him the chance. This is not a battle that can be won by swords, and I for one, am ill-equipped for such a fight."

_Casavir… not able to win a verbal battle??? Never… _

"Sure, after all, a hedge wizard can't make things any worse. Maybe all that digging through books might prove useful," Qara said disdainfully, eyeing the elf with distaste.

Sand's head turned to her coldly. "If we need to burn down Luskan, then perhaps we shall seek you, Qara, but your ignorance will cause more damage here than you know. Luskan is not ruled by men, it is ruled by magic, by the masters of the towers. And if they have decided that you are to be delivered to them, then-"

"So?" she scoffed, "Let them try!"

"Whatever spark of magic you think you have, you idiot _girl,_ they will bleed from you by demon, spell, and curse until even your father won't be able to save you." His voice lowered, as if thinking himself of the implications. "And I suspect that what they seek may have consequence beyond you, beyond me - for much of the Realms."

Seeing she was about to open her mouth, I held up a hand to stop her. "Qara, if you don't like him, that's fine. But for the sake of my patience, shut the hell up!" Huffing, she stormed off up the stairs. I turned back to Sand, considerably more pleasant now that she was gone. "Welcome to our little family, wizard. Be prepared to leave your sanity at the door."


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 13

Port Llast smelled like fish. Not like good fish either, but like fish that had been left in the sun so long that even the cats wouldn't touch it.

"Ah, and here we are in the illustrious Port Llast. Watch where you step - you might get some of the local culture on your boots."

I quirked a grin at Sand even as Shandra huffed at his arrogance. "Gods, Sand, you hold your nose so high it's a wonder you don't wear your hat on it."

"I don't even know what that means, my dear, but I'm sure as far as your local expressions go, it's quite quaint - and charmingly ignorant."

Bishop didn't even try to smother his snort at that one. I hid my own grin, glad I had both Sand and Bishop along. I knew I could always count on one of them for some cuttingly witty remark or verbal battle. It was a nice change from Shandra's constantly perky attitude, and a welcome distraction from the shadow that loomed ever closer. A grin still on my lips, I walked towards Haeromos' office. I needed his permission to enter Ember and thought he might be able to give me some more details about what happened. I had been warned that he might not take to kindly to my presence, but I needed clues to prove my innocence. _Here's to hoping something will be easy for once,_ I thought as I opened the door.

******

When I came back out, I was scowling. The girl we saw in Ember the first time survived the attack and was being held for her protection. Trying to convince Haeromos I had to see her was a feat in and of itself. When he finally did allow us access, we were confronted by the sobbing blond woman. It seems that Alaine 'saw' me murder the entire village and although Sand got her to admit she might have been mistaken, she still vehemently swore that it was me. I wanted to go and hit her upside the head, but figured that wouldn't help my case any.

Glaring darkly at nothing in particular, I heard metal clank as Khelgar's armored form came to a stop next to me. "Well lass, where now?"

"Tavern," I growled. After dealing with the accusing looks that Alaine kept giving me, I was ready to actually murder someone. I wanted a drink to take the edge off because in my opinion, if I was going to be blamed for something, I at least want to have done it. _Maybe I can kill Qara, its not like she has done anything useful. Besides, she'd sell us out faster than Bishop._

"Heh, you'll hear no complaints from me lass."

_Or I could kill the ranger, that would make a lot of people happy it seems. _I mulled that over for a few moments, trying to quiet that irritating voice in my mind. _But you'd miss him__…Only because he's useful and can hold his own in a fight. Oh, and he doesn't question me when things get bloody, _I argued with myself. _Of course, it has nothing to do with the fact he's exciting, and sexy, and…_

_Shut up! Why am I even arguing about this?? I'm not going to kill anyone; I was just trying to make myself feel better. _ I growled to myself. _Dear gods, am I actually arguing with myself? Oh, this is a new low. I knew I should have locked myself in a room when I had the chance. I'm sure Duncan would have slipped me some food through the door._

I stormed my way to the edge of town, the tension in my shoulders tightening with each angry look the townspeople gave me. By the time I reached the tavern, I was simmering. Stalking off to the bar with Khelgar, I left Sand to question the innkeeper. _Let him gather the evidence, I'm going to follow a time honored tradition when crap like this happens. I'm getting drunk._

******

Alas, my drunken oblivion was not to be. Before I could even finish my first tankard, Sand approached to tell me what the innkeeper had said. It seemed there was a ranger over by the fire recovering from some wound she received in the woods and she would have been in the area about the time the massacre occurred. I gave a longing glance into my cup before nodding and waving him off.

I left Shandra and Sand with Khelgar, hoping the two of them would be able to keep the dwarf out of a brawl. Seeing the woman the innkeeper had mentioned by the fire, I headed over to talk to her. Before I could reach her though, Bishop walked over to my side with a smug look on his face. I stopped and glanced at him, trying to figure out why he looked like a cat with cream.

He motioned me to continue, "Go on, don't you need to question people? You won't get that done if you just stand here staring at _me_, as usual."

I snorted. "You wish Bishop. The only reason I look at you is to make sure you're not trying to stick a dagger in my back."

"You're a smart little kitten, aren't you," he drawled. He draped an arm over my shoulders and began to steer me to the fire. "I'm sure that's not the only reason though," he murmured lowly.

Deciding not to dignify that with an answer, I rolled my eyes and shrugged his arm off. He stayed uncomfortably close to me as we approached the half elf. I opened my mouth to greet her, when he interrupted.

"Ah, Malin. Still playing girl-of-the-wood?" he asked mockingly.

"Bishop," she spat, "I was wondering when you'd drag your sorry carcass back to Port Llast."

He smiled broadly, a pleasant mask although his eyes radiated malice. "You waited for me... I'm touched. Then again, it's not like you could have tracked me down if you wanted to."

I looked between the two of them. "I take it you two know each other?"

"You could say that. Liking him is another matter, however," she said coldly, glaring at him all the while.

I groaned inwardly. _Great, just what I need, an angry woman who might have information I need. Damn you Bishop, is there anyone in this world you __**haven't**__ pissed off?_

"If you have a problem with Bishop, I suggest you forget it while I'm here." _Where did that come from?! By the gods, did I just actually defend him? I must be more tired than I thought._

"Who's your new mistress, Bishop?" she snapped. She turned her glare on me, looking me up and down insultingly. "I didn't think any woman could break you... but maybe you were lying about that, too."

He grinned evilly. "And maybe you just couldn't handle me." He paused, letting the thought sink in for a moment. When she glanced back at me with something approaching pity, he drew her attention back to him. "But enough about ancient history... I don't think I've properly introduced the two of you."

"This half-elf slip of a girl here nearly got me... and herself... killed several times over while scouting the Luskan border." He shook his head at her, a chiding tone in his voice. "Impatience, incompetence... these things get scouts killed."

Annoyed by the pitying look she was giving me, I ignored her and smiled at Bishop. "It's a good thing I have you instead of her."

I could nearly feel his pleasure as her face reddened in anger. "My thought exactly."

"If you can honestly say that, then you're probably just as bad as he is." She looked at me a little more closely. "Aren't you the one they're saying slaughtered Ember? If he was with you, I wouldn't be surprised." She laughed bitterly. "You'll find the longer he's with you, the more the bodies pile up behind you."

I really couldn't argue with that, although I had added more than my fair share of bodies to that pile. At her comment, a crowed started to gather around us, as people at surrounding tables began to whisper around the room. I realized I needed to say something in my defense when the rest of the customers began to mutter dangerously. Surprisingly it was Bishop who calmed the situation.

He stepped closer to me, looking at his colleague with hooded eyes and a satisfied smirk. "Yeah, I was with her when it happened. But we weren't in Ember killing villagers; we were in Neverwinter, enjoying a far more… _intimate_… activity."

I heard some masculine chuckles from the crowd and caught a few leers as the patrons started to disperse. I was torn between wanting to give him a grateful look and wanting to kick him in the shins. _Why is everything a double edged sword with you ranger?_

"Anyways, I think my friend here already told you to watch your tongue. But that's always been your problem - you just don't pay attention." His smirk turned cruel as he added, "That's the trouble when you're not fully an elf... and not fully a human. It's like you've always got something to prove."

The dark haired girl's brown eyes flashed as her hands clenched into fists. I watched her visibly take a couple deep breaths before turning away from him completely. Slightly calmer, she managed to ask me coolly, "So, what's your business in Port Llast?"

"I'm investigating the murders in Ember."

She took another long breath before answering. "What's to investigate?" she asked bitterly. "The village is destroyed, and everyone's dead. Could have been brigands, or gods know what else... but a lord's justice won't bring those villagers back to life."

_But it might save mine, and I have grown rather fond of all of my body parts being connected just as they are,_ I thought. Out loud I asked, "Do you know of anyone who might have witnessed the attack on Ember?"

"Maybe," she shrugged. "Three days gone, I was passing just south of the Duskwood when I spied a column of smoke. I'd say it was coming from the ridge, just above Duskwood Grove. Could have been some traveler stopping for the night, or it could be that someone's made a home for themselves. There's a cave up there, and a good spot for a camp. Either way, the Grove is an hour's walk from Ember... maybe less. Whoever's up there may have seen what happened in the village."

I nodded my thanks. "I appreciate the help, Malin."

"Just watch your back. The Grove's not known for being friendly to strangers, and if somebody's made a home on that ridge... well, could be they're just crazy. You'd better hope it's as simple as that."

_And just when has anything been that simple?_


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 14

It seemed so long ago that we stood on this hill overlooking the village for the first time. In my mind's eye I remembered it as it was. It was silent, much like it was now, and there was no life then either. The main difference was where there was once a quiet, empty town, now there was a quiet, corpse strewn battlefield. The furious beating of wings cut through the silence and in one dark mass, a murder of crows rose from their banquet.

The black winged carrion feeders only flew as far as the closest tree, watching, waiting for us to leave so they could return to their feast. Tears glittered down Shandra's cheeks, her gaze following the birds. She reached down and with an anguished scream, threw a large rock at the tree. They scattered, hovering in the air for only a moment before settling back down to wait.

"Shandra," I whispered helplessly, reaching out a hand to her shoulder. She brushed me off, taking off at a sprint down to the village to check on the fate of those she knew.

Bishop's cold, appraising voice came from behind me. "Well, it's efficient. Whoever did this; they took care to secure the perimeter first, and then moved in..." He motioned with his arm, pointing out the clues. "Look, you can tell from the position of the corpses."

"Ye gods, lad. Have ya any heart at all?" Khelgar said, his face pale as he looked out on to the bloodstained grass.

I snorted humorlessly. "The dead are beyond our help and we can mourn them after we save the living." _Namely us._

Khelgar shook his head sadly, disappointed that I could be so callous.

I was unable to justify myself to him at the moment. It was difficult enough to look over the bodies and hold myself together. I was trying hard not to allow myself to wonder if my being here caused this destruction. I took a cue from Bishop and stared at it clinically as if looking at a puzzle. Thinking of it that way helped, took an edge off the horror.

Gesturing at some houses, I slowly worked out what had happened. "They would have entered that those three points. The bodies are fewer there. Hearing screams, people would have come out of their homes, looking to see what was happening. Over there," I pointed vaguely at a few houses, "you can see people cut down on their doorstep. A few ran for the main road out of town, only to be stopped before they could leave." I stopped talking and walked further down the hill to get a better view. "The bodies mass at the center of the village. They tried to flee what was behind them, out the other side of town. It would have been like a dream, the one where the monsters are chasing you, only one step behind. Unfortunately, this time the monsters weren't just behind them, they were surrounding them."

Losing myself in the puzzle, I took a few more steps down. "There, that group of people begged for their lives. You can tell by how the bodies fell." I stopped moving, looking down at a woman laying a few feet in front of me. "They tried to make it look as if they were here for a reason."

Sand cleared his throat behind me. "Why would you say that?"

I could hear my own voice distantly in my head, and a small part of me cried out at its lack of compassion. "The women… they're all still clothed and covered. A normal raiding party would have taken time to rape them at least. Also the houses don't look to be ransacked. It doesn't appear that things were stolen. If nothing was stolen, that would indicate that the murders came with a purpose in mind."

I turned to look at the men behind me and found all of them were staring at me, faces ranging from horror, intellectual curiosity, to a faint sort of grim pride. _Well, at least their expressions were expected… Except Bishop's. Why in the hells does he look like a man whose pet just did a new trick?_

"Well, I must say dear girl, I am impressed. Perhaps you didn't need me here to gather clues as it seems you have this one all worked out. But that does make me wonder as to how…"

Sand's face was carefully neutral when I glanced at him coolly. "What, are you thinking I figured that out because I did it?"

"Of course not," he said hastily, "but in your line of work, I wouldn't think that something like this would be common. Unless of course, your past is darker than our good ranger's."

"Watch it, elf."

I managed a weak laugh as Bishop bristled. "It's not common. My father used to take me out into the woods with him sometimes when I was younger. If we came upon a carcass of an animal, he would make me work out exactly what happened. He taught me signs to look for, and how to tell if it were killed by man or beast."

"My, what a lovely parenting technique."

"Daeghun always said that nature would provide you everything you needed, be it information or shelter." I smiled briefly at a long forgotten memory. "If I was wrong, he would drive that message home. I would turn to look for him, and he would be gone. It was up to me to find our path home again and if I couldn't, I would need to find food and shelter for the night."

"By the gods lass, how old were ya?"

I shrugged, trying to recall. "Hmm, couldn't have been more than nine or ten I think. But anyways, enough about that. We need to look for clues. Bishop, you seem to know the most about Luskans, you think we'll be able to find something?"

He glanced around before giving me a careless shrug. "They usually don't bother trying to place blame elsewhere, so they may have made mistakes."

"We can only hope so - " I broke off when the sounds of sobbing reached us. Following my ears I found Shandra crying behind a house, rocking a man's limp body in her arms. I could barely make out her words through her tears.

"Elaith, I'm so sorry, please forgive me." She clutched his lifeless body close to her, whispering as her tears dripped onto his face. "I'm so sorry I never got to tell you…" A hiccup broke her voice and she bowed her head over him.

Unsure if I should step in, I hesitantly moved forward. "Shandra…"

She lifted red rimmed eyes to mine, furiously trying to blink back the tears. Before I could say anything further she laid a gentle kiss on the man's forehead and laid him to the ground. Grim determination shone through the wet tracks on her cheeks. Silently I handed her the bag of wyrmsage Nya had given us.

"Put them to rest," I said softly. She nodded gratefully and moved on to the closest body, sprinkling the powered plant over the corpse, setting its soul to eternal slumber.

I watched her sadly as she made her rounds about the village. Once she was out of ear shot, I stood and went to where I knew Bishop was hiding. Khelgar and Sand had enough respect to stay away, but respect wasn't even in the ranger's vocabulary. Before he could move from his shadowed corner I reached out and caught the edge of his armor.

A dark smile spread over his lips as I pulled him to me. I answered it with an evil one of my own when I slipped a hand behind his neck to pull his head down. Brushing my body lightly against his, I leaned into his ear, letting my warm breath tickle the small hairs for a moment before I spoke. "If you say anything about this to her," I whispered, "I swear I will gut you in your sleep."

My dark smile still in place, I released him and stepped back. As I walked away, I could almost swear I heard a rusty chuckle.

******

_She had surprised him again, a feeling he wasn't comfortable with. When they had finally reached Ember he could see the horror on all of their faces. The weak slip of a farmer they picked up broke down in tears at the first sight of blood. He snorted contemptuously; it was just like a woman to lose control. _

_But __**she**__ didn't break down, she was able to deal with the images that would have sent others screaming. He watched her carefully, looking for any weakness she might give away. He watched as she took in the scene and then took a few deep breaths before her look turned curious. He knew what she was doing, she was turning the truth into something else, something she could deal with. Normally anyone changing the truth, especially to themselves, angered him to no end, but then she spoke._

_Oh, and when she spoke… He couldn't stop the pride that welled up out of nowhere, much like the pride a she-wolf would have at her cub's first kill. He had to grudgingly admit that even he hadn't caught everything she was pointing out. _

_Admiration was something he hadn't felt for anyone in many, many years, and it had never been for a woman. He's desired some certainly, but never had any of them proved worthy of his respect. They were all to weak, all secretly waiting for some male to come and save them. Somehow he knew this little Kat wouldn't wait for anyone to save her, she would do it herself._

_Her threats made him respect her all the more, because he didn't doubt for a moment that she would hesitate to carry them out if necessary. Had anyone else said those words to him, they would wake the next morning to find themselves in that very situation. But from her…it was like honeyed words of seduction whispered in his ear._

_He grinned fiercely in his dark shadow, thinking on how she had grabbed him. He knew she knew he had followed and hidden himself. He had watched as the farmgirl wept for the sap lying in his own blood on the grass. He also watched the flicker of pain in Kathrynn's face as she tracked the farmers movements. Just as quickly though, it was replaced by her normal confident expression._

_He could have slipped away before she reached him, but he wanted to see what she would do. He figured she would confront him, but never thought that she would have the balls to grab him like that. He could smell her when she pulled him close, her scent bringing back the memories of the time by the stream. Even his iron control couldn't stop the fire that raged at her nearness._

_She wasn't nearly as unaffected as she acted either. He could see the pulse in her throat speed up as she brushed purposefully against him. Her voice was steady, but he saw the barely controlled heat in her eyes when she pulled away. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was enjoying the game between them, the thrill being nearly the same as when he hunted. And when he hunted… he always got his prey._


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 15

The silence in camp that night was unnatural. Everyone set up their spaces, each lost in their own world. Staring into the trees, I kept remembering the corpses in Ember, their faces contorted with fear. In my mind, they were all looking at me accusingly.

_Distraction, I need a distraction…_

Sand sat by the fire flipping through his spell book and occasionally squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"Sand, are you alright?"

He set his book aside and began massaging his temples. "There is something about this place, something that's not quite right." He looked around, brow furrowed in thought. "Ah yes, that's it."

"Umm, care to enlighten the rest of us?"

"It's the trees in this area... you may notice your senses becoming slowed, lethargic. These trees act as a damper on magical energies. My considerable talents may be... reduced while we are here."

"Lovely. Thanks for the warning though."

He cleared his throat, looking vaguely pleased. "It's quite alright. I'm just pleased that my knowledge can be of some use."

Leaving him to his studies, I thought about approaching Shandra. She lay on her bedroll staring blankly into the night sky. The occasional tear trickled out of the corner of her eye, leaving a salty track in its wake. _If that was me, I'd hit the first person who came near me. But then again, I can be a bit of an antisocial bitch at times… _I glanced around the camp and saw that Khelgar was already asleep, but Bishop was still here. _I wonder why he hasn't disappeared yet. Normally he leaves as soon as we start setting up for the night._

Torn, I looked between the ranger and the girl. _Crying woman, pissy man… Oh the decisions. _Gritting my teeth, I went over to Shandra as quietly as possible. I knelt down next to her still form, unsure what to say.

"You must think I'm weak," she whispered.

"Naw, after what you've been through recently, no one can blame you."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What about you though? You been through more it seems, and yet you haven't broken down."

I shrugged even though I knew she couldn't see me. "Everyone has their breaking points. Seeing Ember today was hard enough for me, and I didn't know anyone there." I left the words open, an unspoken offer to listen to her tale.

She rolled her head away from me, her face heavily shadowed as the moon slipped behind thick clouds. "I'm sorry Kathrynn, I know it's not your fault but… But I can't help but wonder if they would still be alive had you not had gone through there in the first place…" Her voice was so quiet at the end; I had to lean down to catch it. The last words cut through me like a knife. My own agonizing thoughts rushed to the foreground.

Stumbling, I got to my feet. Without a backwards glance I headed into the trees, not stopping until I was to far to even see the campfire. I continued deeper into the forest until finally, physically and emotionally exhausted, I leaned back against a large tree. Pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes, I almost didn't notice the quiet footsteps behind me.

Blindly I lashed out, dagger in hand. It swooshed a deadly path through the air only to be met with sparks and a clang. Instinct took over. All thoughts and logic washed out of my skull, leaving only the pain and rage. Every unfairness of the past few weeks, every life taken, every drop of blood split, all came rushing back to culminate in a white hot fury.

I swung my other blade, trying to get inside the guard of the dark figure in front of me, only to have it expertly blocked. My eyes narrowed as I attempted another strike. Again it was blocked, this time with enough force to send the blade spinning from my hand. Feigning a thrust with the remaining blade in my left hand, I waited with each muscle singing in readiness. The dark figure anticipated the move and prepared to block, so I did something he didn't anticipate.

My fist connected to soft flesh with a satisfying thwack. My pleasure though was short lived as the figure lunged forward with a growl, knocking me to the ground. The back of my skull struck a partially buried rock and for a few precious seconds I lay there stunned. The man was on me in a flash, pinning all off my limbs to the mossy ground.

"Yield," a familiar voice snarled at me.

Shaking my head, I cleared the stars from my vision. "Make me," I hissed back. Levering a foot free, I planted a rough kick in his stomach. As he reared back, I scrambled out from under him, making sure to grab my remaining blade that had dropped in the fall. He was back on his feet just as quickly and came after me with a vengeance.

A tiny bit of moonlight broke through the clouds; just enough to make the blades he wielded shine like silver. Fiercely he attacked, slowly driving me backwards even as I blocked each blow. A distant part of my mind wondered at that, how it was that someone who held those blades so expertly had yet to land a single strike on me. The animalistic anger shoved back the feeble attempt at logic.

My back connected sharply with a large tree. Trying to dart around it, I found myself trapped by the woods itself. In a last desperate attack, I threw myself forward, dagger aimed for the man's throat. My wrists were captured roughly, and a large body rammed me back into the tree.

Wrenching my arms over my head, he ground them into the rough bark savagely. I could feel the skin over my knuckles split, but the pain was nothing to what was raging inside me. He slammed the hand still holding the dagger into the tree. When my grip didn't loosen, he growled. "Damn you woman, yield!" he snarled again, all the while brutally bashing my hand against the trunk.

Chest heaving from exertion, I managed a defiant glare. "Never," I growled back, even as the blade slipped through my numb fingers. Disarmed and trapped, I still struggled until the figure stepped forward to pin my body against the tree with his own.

The moon slipped out from behind its cloudy veil and for the first time I could see my aggressors face clearly. Amber eyes were narrowed dangerously and his lips were set in a vicious snarl. From one corner of his mouth, ruby drops of blood trailed down his chin. Breathing hard, we stared at each other, neither speaking a word.

My eyes roamed over his angry face until the crimson streak on his skin caught my attention fully. I stared at it as though hypnotized, not realizing what I was doing until I found myself leaning in those few inches that separated us to gently lick the blood from his mouth. He watched me clean his blood off my lips with my tongue, never moving even as I stared into his burning eyes. Fire flashed behind them as I leaned into him once more and kissed him savagely.

For a moment he didn't respond, but when my teeth pulled at his lower lip a growl rose from deep in his chest. His reaction was violent. Pinning me against the tree more firmly, he ground his body against mine. His tongue flicked against my lips, forcefully demanding entry, as if nothing in the hells would stop him from getting what he desired.

As soon as I parted my mouth under his, he delved deeply in a bruising kiss. My fingers ached to touch him and I tugged insistently against his grasp. His only response was to tighten his grip to the point were I could feel the small bones in my wrists shifting. He trailed his lips down the side of my face, nipping lightly at my throat. I writhed against him as he scrapped his teeth roughly over my neck. His breath was hot against the delicate skin at the base of my neck for a few agonizing moments as he waited. A longing whimper bubbled up in me and I strained to close the tiny gap under his lips. My heart nearly stopped when he caught the tender skin near my collarbone and slowly began to apply pressure.

His teeth sank into my flesh, and a delicious heat began to course through my veins. As he bit down, I couldn't stop the moan that escaped my lips. My back arched of its own violation, thrusting my hips against his. His bite became bruising until he finally tore his mouth away. Staring deeply into my eyes, he slowly licked my blood from his lips, exactly as I had done earlier.

His lips captured mine and my mouth filled with the coppery taste of life. Feverishly, I rubbed against him, feeling his body respond to my writhing. He released my hands only to grip my hips, forcefully stopping my movements. I didn't realize my hands were free even as they tangled themselves in his thick hair, holding his head firmly to mine.

When I felt him trying to pull away, I desperately tightened my hold on his hair. I felt if he pulled away from me now, everything would come falling in all around us. He slid his hands up my sides slowly, his palms just barely brushing the sides of my breasts. Even through his leather gloves and my armor I could feel his fingers leaving a burning path on my body.

Our tongues danced to the beat of our blood even as he tried to release my grip from his hair. Capturing my wrists once again in his strong hands, he applied firm pressure with his thumbs against the delicate bones. When my hands went numb, he pulled them down, safely away from anything I could latch on to. Finally free, he jerked his lips away roughly. "Gods, woman," he growled, his breathing labored.

His voice pierced the primitive fog ruling my brain and body. Reality crashed back around me like the tide coming in. I froze, realizing just what was happening. He watched with a mocking smirk as my senses returned to me. When I raised wide eyes to his, he chuckled softly. Unable to stop myself, I sealed his lips with mine in a last brief kiss before I ran.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 16

I ran through the dark trees, not knowing where I was headed. Losing my self to the forest, my body remembered Daeghun's teachings even though my brain was otherwise occupied. I slipped through the under brush, leapt over fallen trees, and ducked low hanging branches. That was how it always had been for me. If I think about what I'm doing I more than likely land on my bottom somewhere in a wet pile of moss. But if I let myself be carried by nature's rhythms, I arrive to my destination with my dignity and flesh intact.

Had I been able to realize that, I would have made a mental note to thank my father next time I saw him. Unfortunately, all I could recognize was the chorus in my head.

_Crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap…_

With burning lungs and subsiding panic, I came to a screeching halt. Glancing around me, I noticed for the first time that I was completely and utterly lost. I groaned in frustration. _Wonderful Kat, first you attack one of your companions, and when he disarmed you, you mauled him! After that, you ran like a scared rabbit and got lost in the woods. What would Daeghun say? Hells, I'll never live it down from Bishop alone. _ I shook my head in disgust, sinking down to take a seat on a fallen log.

_Bishop._ _Gods, what did I do?? I can't believe I lost control like that. I mean, I licked the blood from his mouth. That's just not very… civilized. I have enough issues with that man before adding this on top of it all._

_Although…_

_He didn't seem to be complaining… I bet he is going to try and get me back for punching him though. _I sighed, propping my chin up on my knees. As the adrenaline from my flight faded, the bite on my shoulder started to sting. _Or perhaps he already has. _I gently moved the leather out of the way slightly and craned my neck to take a look. Imprinted on my white flesh sat a perfect set of teeth marks.

I ran a finger over the indentions lightly, shivering as the light touch brought back a rush of warmth. I licked my lips, noting that they still were swollen from their earlier exercises. A shudder went though me and I experienced an odd emotion. It was almost like… regret. Regret for what though? Regret that I kissed him? _Or regret that I ran from him…_

Scowling, I ran a hand through my tousled hair. Thoughts like that would get me nowhere. More than likely he hadn't pushed me away because he's Bishop. Somehow I couldn't see that man turning down a woman throwing herself at him. _Hells, he probably would have done the same if it were Shandra or Elanee._

A stab of jealousy ran through me with that. Angrily I shoved it back; there was no reason to be jealous. If anything I should be happy if he turned his attentions to one of them. That man infuriated me to no end, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before he sold us all out to the highest bidder. _And when that time came, then he and I would be having a little chat…_

I shivered again, this time not at the warmth his body had burned into mine, but at the cool night breeze. I glanced up in the sky. It had to be after midnight and it was only going to get colder. There was no way I was getting back to camp tonight, and I tried to get comfortable even as I longingly thought of my bedroll. Wrapping my arms around myself I settled in for a long night.

*******

I blinked slowly. My eyes felt as though they were covered in a fine layer of sand as I gazed blearily out over the forest floor. Sighing, I leaned my head back against the tree I was hiding in.

There was no sleep for me last night. After the "Bishop incident" as I was starting to call it, I had sat on that old log for several hours. Only the howling of wolves got me to move. Like a scared cat I scrambled up a tree and stayed there the rest of the night.

Only after the sun started to rise did I climb back down, dreading the return trip to the camp. Weary, dirty, and unarmed, I picked my way through the brush, searching for signs of last night's mad dash. It took a while, since I was no ranger like Bishop or my father, but I finally saw our camp through the trees in the distance.

*******

Everyone was all packed up and standing around with worried looks on their faces. Everyone except Bishop of course. He was leaning against a tree casually sharpening a blade. I stifled a groan when I realized he was standing right next to my packed up gear. Mustering my courage I broke through the trees, bracing myself when Shandra ran up to me, nearly in tears.

"Kathrynn, you're alive!" She wrapped her arms around me in a bone crushing hug. As I patted her back and made soothing nonsense noises I glanced over her shoulder. Bishop was watching us with a knowing smirk. That rat didn't look like he lost any sleep at all; in fact, he looked rather pleased with himself.

I glared at him as I tried to pry Shandra off me. "We were so worried," she was babbling, "After we talked and you ran off, we couldn't find you. Khelgar and I looked and looked but it was so dark. We thought you were eaten by wolves or something. " _Well…In a way…_ I thought to myself as she continued babbling. "Bishop disappeared too but wouldn't tell us a thing when he came back early this morning." She gave him an angry glare which only served to make his smirk wider. "He was bleeding and we thought that maybe he killed you, and so Sand was going to disintegrate him -"

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. After a night like that, the image of what must have happened when he came back was to much for my frazzled nerves.

Shandra looked slightly offended. "Well, we were just worried…"

My earlier exhaustion suddenly forgotten, I patted her arm and moved past, still grinning. As I headed toward my equipment, Sand stepped forward, clearing his throat. "I for one, dear girl am glad to see that you were not carried off by the forest - " he paused, searching for the right words. Finally he waved a hand dismissively. "Beasties. It would have made proving your innocence at the trial that much more difficult."

I smiled at him. "Thanks Sand. It's good to know you got your priorities straight."

"Ehm… Yes, well I just didn't want to be the one to explain to Nevalle why you did not return. That man would most likely hold **me **responsible and make me come to look for you."

"Really though, I'm touched you were willing to disintegrate someone on my behalf." Staring at the ranger the entire time, I gave the wizard a quick kiss on the cheek. When Bishop's face darkened slightly, I shot him a sweet smile.

A faint blush darkened his blue cheeks as he tried to play it off. "I unfortunately was not able to follow through, once it was pointed out by the dwarf that he was the only one who knew where we were. Besides, I came to the conclusion that had he killed you, he would have most likely dragged your body back for show."

"Nah," I said, glancing at the ranger. "He wouldn't drag my corpse back for show. It woulda been to much work just for that. Had he killed me, he would have dragged me back because I'm worth only slightly less dead than I am alive. Isn't that right Bishop?"

He shrugged. "And maybe someday they will raise it enough to make it worth my while."

"Bishop!" Shandra cried, outraged.

I snorted. "Come on Shandra, you honestly can't blame him for being practical."

She huffed in disgust. "I swear, you two are so much alike sometimes it's scary. At least you're normally pleasant while he's always…" She wrinkled her nose as if sorting through all the possible names she could call him and discarding them one by one. "Him," she finally spat out, before stomping off to shoulder her packs. Bishop and I looked at each other, both of us wearing identical expressions of doubt.

Striding over with a confidence that was entirely show, I stopped to gather my belongings. When I straightened, Bishop handed me the knife he had been working on. I examined it and saw it wasn't one of mine. Noticing an empty sheath on his belt, I slowly realized it was the same hunting knife I had gotten between us the first night we traveled together.

When I glanced back at him, he looked at me for a moment, his face unreadable. "You owe me a blade," he said lowly before brushing past and heading to the road. Hiding a smile, I shouldered my pack and motioned the others to follow.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 17

Wearily I sank into the first chair I came to back at the Port Llast tavern. After signaling the barkeep for ale, I laid my cheek on the rough wood of the table. Just as soon as I closed my eyes I heard someone clearing their throat off to my side. Biting back a sigh, I lifted my head to see Khelgar shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

I managed a smile. "Hey there, what's up?"

He plopped down, the chair creaking dangerously under his armored bulk. For a moment he just looked at me, uncommonly serious.

"You know, I never managed to ask you why you didn't let Sand disintegrate Bishop. I would think that you would be the first in line for that."

"That's what I wanted to talk to ya about lass."

"What?" I asked with a smirk. "You wishing now that you had?"

He shrugged, still looking uncomfortable.

"Come on my friend, out with it. It's not like you to not say what's on your mind."

With a sigh, he looked at me gravely. "Ya know I have your back, right?"

"Of course. You've always been there in a fight."

He shook his head. "Not like that lassie. I'm talking about your ranger friend."

"Bishop??"

"I may be an old dwarf, but I can see there's something between the two of you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I scoffed.

He raised a hairy eyebrow. "So those _aren't_ teeth marks on your neck?"

I was silent, unable to think of a good answer.

Khelgar looked almost sad. "Jest watch out for him lass. I would hate ta see ya get hurt."

_Advice about men from a dwarf. Oh how I've reached a new low._

As Khelgar wandered over to the bar I downed my first tankard and waved the bartender to keep them coming. Something told me this would be yet another long day in an already long week.

******

"May I join you?"

I groaned to myself. _Who do I have to kill to get some peace around here?? _I had finished my fourth tankard and my mood was just now starting to lighten. All I wanted was to be left alone and then here comes Malin. I was sorely tempted to ignore her, but I was curious as to what she wanted.

I waved her to the seat across from me. "What's on your mind Malin?"

Her eyes darted nervously around the room. "I wanted to talk to you about _him_."

I raised an eyebrow. "_Him?_ I suppose you're speaking of Bishop. What about him?"

"First, I have a question for you - why is he with you? Loyalty isn't high on Bishop's list - and he doesn't help _anyone_."

"He helped us get through the Luskan border so we could rescue a friend," I said simply.

Recognition sparked in her face. "Ah... Luskans. Bishop hates them... it's the only genuine emotion I've ever seen from him."

"Look, if you've got a problem with Bishop, then keep it to yourself. He's proven to be an asset and your warnings aren't going to change that."

She gave me a pitying look. "I didn't listen once, either. But I learned my lesson, trust me." When I didn't respond, she leaned forward to look at me seriously. "Defend Bishop all you want, but you're only going to drive him away... he hates being in anyone's debt. Almost as much as he hates Luskans." Horror flickered behind her eyes before she glanced down at the table. "Gods, the things he's done to them at the border..."

I kept my face expressionless. "What exactly are you trying to say? That he tortured them?"

She nodded, disturbed by my lack of reaction. "That's why I couldn't travel with him anymore..." she whispered lowly. Malin reached out and put her hand over mine. "The look on his face when he murdered them was horrifying. I have never seen so much cold rage in one person before." She paused, swallowing hard. "He tortured them before he killed them you know. Someone who can do things like that can't be trusted. They will turn on you as soon as it fits their purposes."

I pointedly looked to where her hand was covering mine. Hastily she withdrew it when she saw my irritation. "What do you want me to say? That if he gets out of line, I'll just kill him? Would that make you feel better?"

"You don't get it... when he makes a move, it's because he's already figured out all the angles, how to win. By then, it's too late to stop him."

I shrugged, looking at her coldly. "Personally, I find that admirable. He looks at all the variables, that's what makes him so good."

She stood, shaking her head in denial. "I don't understand how you can be so callous." She sighed. "Just… just be more careful than I was, alright?"

*******

My brain felt as though it was wrapped in a warm fuzzy blanket as I peered down into my cup. _Praise be to the clerics that can make healing potions, but after a week like this, this is the only cure. Sigh… if only everyone could sit down and work everything out over a tankard. _I snickered quietly to my self as I pictured the King of Shadows, Black Garius and Nasher all sitting at a table, cups in hand arguing drunkenly. _Alright, that's bad, maybe I should easy up the on the ale._

A cool voice cut into my thoughts, "So. I saw Malin tracked you down. And just what lies is she telling about me now?"

I glanced up from my table by the fire. Bishop stood leaning casually against the stone fireplace, strong arms folded across his chest. "Why, does it matter?"

He slid into the seat opposite me, lean body as graceful and as careless as a cat. "Naw, but I _don't_ like people telling tales about me. It tends to lead to a lot of questions that I really don't feel like answering."

I shrugged. "No lies, mainly you hate everyone, you shouldn't be trusted, that sort of stuff. What'd ya do, break her heart? Sounds like a bitter woman to me."

He smiled mockingly but his eyes held mine. "Ask me no secrets, and I'll tell you no tales," he said suggestively. When I didn't say anything, he shrugged. "We traveled together for a time and after a while; you start to find out who a person really is. She couldn't handle it and left."

I couldn't help but rib him. "Is that possible, a woman left _you?_"

"And just what do you mean by that?" he asked, his voice was lowering to a threat.

"Simply that I'm surprised you actually stuck around long enough for her to leave you. Somehow you strike me as the type to be gone before the sheets cooled." Surprised at my own boldness, I glanced down at the table and noticed just how many tankards were before me. _Yup, it was the ale._

He raised an eyebrow over hooded eyes, his voice like silk over my skin. "Perhaps with the right _motivation_ I would stick around for the dawn."

I laughed. "Why is it I'm thinking that the only way someone could get you to stay to physically tie you down so you didn't have a choice…" Pausing, I felt a blush creeping over my cheeks as I thought about what I just said. _Alright, no more ale for you girly._ _It makes your mouth get ahead of your brain and by the gods… Why is he looking at me like that???_

His expression never changed but his eyes burned with a sudden intensity that scared and enticed me. I could feel his gaze on me, flicking over my face with a nearly tangible heat. "Is that an offer?" he asked silkily, glancing to the partially hidden mark he left on my skin just last night.

Fighting back the blush that threatened to turn me into a tomato, I suddenly found my determination not to let him win, not to show him how much his words, his mere presence rattled me. Opening my mouth, I started to say something in retaliation, but I was interrupted.

**_CHRASH**_

The sound of splintering wood sounded from behind me. _Thank the gods. Even if it's raiding githyanki, I'll kiss them for this distraction._

Then I heard the angry dwarven curses. With a groan, I closed my eyes. _Not another brawl..._ When I opened them, I dared to look behind me. Khelgar had picked himself up off of the broken table and was running headlong towards one of the guardsman. I groaned again, thinking about the nightmare trying to explain this would be.

Shandra and Sand swooped in to the rescue. Pouncing from the sides they each nabbed an arm and hauled him bodily through the tavern backwards, his heels digging ruts in the dirt floor even as he yelled.

"Come on! There's nothing like a little bar fight to get the blood pumpen! Le'me goooo!!!"

His voice trailed off as they dragged him out the door, both wearing expressions of hard tried patience.

I looked around at the damage and nearly cringed at the glare the proprietor was giving me. Pulling out my coin pouch, I stood to go over and pay for the damages. But before I could take more than a few steps from my table, I felt a presence at my back. Bishop's warm breath tickled my skin as he leaned into me. "We'll finish this conversation later," he whispered in my ear before casually brushing past to leave the building.

_Gulp._


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 18

The journey back to Neverwinter was much faster than I expected. For the first time since I was accused of murder, the load on my shoulders seemed to lighten. Right before we had left Port Llast, a small boy walked up to us. I could recognize his power before I could even see his face. It was Marcus of Ember. He had survived the attack, just as he prophesized and had witnessed the entire thing. He must have known we were leaving and came to find us.

He told us that the murder looked like me, but not, that my form had wavered in his eyes till he saw the large man that was truly underneath. Sand's eyes had widened by that point as he paced unconsciously, muttering under his breath. He finally figured it out. They must have used a disguising spell or alteration powder on the man to make him look like me. The whole razing was a set up.

Even now as I thought about it, I was kind of flattered that someone went through all this trouble for little 'ol me. Asides from everyone dying of course… That part just pissed me off.

Marcus agreed to appear before Lord Nasher at my trial and tell the court what he had seen. Sand believed that Nasher's advisors would immediately be able to see the boy's power and they would lend credit to his words.

_If my fate is hinged on a little boy's word, even a creepy little boy's word then I'm doomed. Maybe Elanee could turn me into a wolf or something, and I could just go about my merry way, forgetting all this._

I walked along the road, lost in thought, pondering the logistics of being turned into a wolf. _I'm not too big on raw meat. That might be a problem. And I would get lonely. Maybe a wolf is a bad idea. Now a pampered house cat, that's another subject…Can they make cats stand trial?_

My musings had caused me to fall behind the others but I didn't even notice until I felt a warm breath blow across my ear. Startled, I jumped and yelped like a little girl. Spinning around, my cheeks flamed to see Bishop standing behind me, a smug look on his face.

I glared at him. "Thanks. You know, if you're going to try to frighten me to death, could you work a little harder? I mean, if I'm dead, then I don't have to deal with this whole trial thing."

"Frighten you to death? Hardly," he scoffed. "Not my style. I prefer a more… direct… approach." He glanced behind me, checking the distance between us and the others. "Besides, killing you wouldn't be any fun." When I looked at him with a raised brow he amended, "You're not even armed. Where's the challenge in that?"

Looking down to my empty sheaths, I grimaced. "Yeah, I need to get some new blades once we get back to Neverwinter. I guess it was time for an upgrade anyways." I paused, not wanting to mention the other night, but considering we were still at least a whole day away from the city I needed some type of weapon to balance Bishop's knife. I always fought with two blades when I got up close and personal. Using the one didn't feel quite right.

Blushing slightly I asked, "I… umm… don't suppose you found my blades in the forest, did you?"

He stepped closer to me, making my blush harder to contain. "And what would you give me if I had?" His voice was mocking, but ever so faintly curious.

I backed up a pace, buying time to untie my tongue that tangled with the mere thought of his mouth that night. "If you didn't find them, you could have just said so," I muttered, pretending that something over his shoulder caught my attention.

He knew exactly what I was thinking about and when I glanced back at him, his tongue flicked out to lick his lips. Such a normal action but it made my stomach clench into a hot knot. I didn't realize that I was following the movement of his tongue so closely until I saw his lips curve into a satisfied smile.

With a huff I spun on my heel and stalked off after the others, trying not to hear the throaty chuckle behind me.

******

It was Bishop's turn to take first watch and as usual, he was nowhere to be seen. He had once said he preferred for any enemies think we were unguarded, that it made it more enjoyable for him when he slit their throats. At the time I had shuddered, but as time has gone on, I've realized how practical it was. Not the enjoying it part, but watching without being seen.

The evening meal had been cooked and cleaned up. Luckily it was Shandra's turn to cook so we didn't have to 'experience' Khelgar's cooking again. As often as possible we all managed to trade our duties around so it was his turn as little as possible. It was worth a little extra work to keep my stomach safe from his 'secret family recipes.'

As everyone prepared for bed Sand took the opportunity to lecture me about how to behave at the trial.

"Now, what are you going to do if Nasher asks you anything?"

"Stand still and let you answer it."

"And is anyone else asks you something?"

"Stand still and let you answer it."

"Very good. Now I have dealt with Torio's kind in the past. She is going to try to get you to say or do something incriminating. If this happens, I want you to…"

"Get up and plant a foot in her ass?" I asked hopefully.

Sand rolled his eyes.

_Bloody elves with no sense of humor._

"No," he said slowly as if I were a dimwitted child. "What will you do?"

I sighed and managed to get out from behind gritted teeth, "Stand still and let you handle it."

"Good, now what if-"

"Stand still and let you handle it!" came the chorus by the fire, before Shandra and Khelgar dissolved into a fit of laughter.

At Sand's indignant glare I tried hard to stifle my own giggles. Standing, I placed a hand on his shoulder and dropped a sisterly kiss on the top of his head.

"Thank you my friend, for all of your help. If not for you, I would be swinging already. However, I think it's time to stop for the night. I promise I will repeat your directions though, even as I sleep."

He glanced at me dryly, but there was a telltale trace of a blush across his bluish cheeks. Something told me that he got complimented or thanked rarely and I resolved to do it more often.

I loved having him around whenever we had to go somewhere. He was always good for a stimulating conversation and listening to his snarky commentary was a source of great entertainment for me. That and hearing him shriek and squeal when we had to fight something. That was good too. Although for all his noises, he was a very accomplished mage. Not quite as good at hurting others as Qara, but much, much more pleasant to have along.

Sand muttered something under his breath and all I could catch was 'humans' and 'frustrating.'

Grinning, I wandered over to my bedroll and snuggled in under my cloak. As soon as the camp was silent except for the crackling of the fire, I muttered loudly, "Stand still and let him handle it, stand still and let him handle it."

The only reaction I got was a handful of twigs thrown in my direction.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 19

The crowd cheered loudly as I was pronounced innocent. I stood there, grinning like a fool as Shandra captured me in a huge hug. When she finally released me I glanced over at Sand and smiled at him gratefully. It seemed as though I would live through another day.

A loud cry was heard over the crowd. "I demand the right of trial by combat!"

_Or not._

I looked wildly at my elven lawyer just to see his face drain to a sickly grey color. _Oh, this isn't good._

The cheers had given way to unhappy murmurings and I used the noise to cover my words. "Can she do this?" I hissed.

Sand closed his eyes and nodded. "I had hoped she wouldn't know of it, but it seems as though she studied the law more thoroughly than expected."

I glanced at Torio, who was standing there with a smug smile on her face. "Well," I muttered back, "do I still need to stand still and let you handle it, or can I commence with the planting of my foot in her ass?"

"By all means my dear."

I started forward, ready to start the trial then and there only to be stilled by the look Lord Nasher gave me.

Never moving from his chair, he just looked down on her as if she was no better than an insect to crush beneath his boot. "You brought this case before me - now you debate my verdict." His voice dropped a notch, the cold, calm anger more unnerving than if he shouted. "I would be careful of where you point a sword when you draw it, Ambassador - and remind your masters in Luskan of that as well."

He looked out over the crowed and announced to the audience, "I think we've wasted enough time on this. Justice has been done, an-"

Torio smiled smugly. "But I claim the right of trial by combat, my _lord_."

His eyes narrowed. "Ambassador, I am _tired_ of your games, and I will indulge you no longer."

"In a matter of such importance, you would deny me my sacred right of appeal?"

She glanced at the judge, one sworn to Tyr's service. "Can Lord Nasher do that, Reverend Judge? Can he put himself above our god Tyr in this matter?"

The reverend judge's mouth thinned to an angry line. "He... cannot. The ambassador from Luskan is entitled to an appeal as she describes," he finally said with reluctance.

Nevalle's expression was full of disdain. "And who will fight for you, Torio? This is no battle with words, though I would like to see you try to match your wit against the blade of a true soldier of Neverwinter."

"Indeed, you are correct, Sir Nevalle. Luskan is not the aggressor here, and I only wish to see justice done." Her tone turned cajoling as she played to the crowd. She was so good at it, it nearly made me ill.

"Bullshit," I muttered under my breath.

"But I cannot defend myself and seek justice in this matter... is there not one who will champion the people of Ember?"

The crowd was silent, anxiously awaiting an answer. Well, she wasn't the only one who could act. I stepped forward. "Come now Torio. If you can call for a battle, one would think that you would be woman enough to follow through yourself." I glanced around pointedly. "It doesn't appear to be anyone willing to step forward for you. Would that be because everyone here knows as much as you and I do that this was all a setup?"

"Stop provoking her," Sand whispered hurriedly behind me.

I ignored him and tisked at her. "It looks like the poor little actress will have to play the hand she herself dealt."

Hearing the long sigh from the elf, I could nearly see him rolling his eyes.

Heavy footsteps sounded from the back of the court. A booming voice rang out. "I will champion her. I have listened to these lies, and will answer them - with my blade, in Luskan's name."

I turned to see a man who would dwarf even Casavir walking up the isle. His shaved head was shiny in the bright light of the hall and his blue eyes were narrowed in anger. He glared at me the entire way to Torio's side, fingers caressing the hilt of his falchion purposefully.

_Is that little gesture supposed to frighten me? I've been more scared of being the one that had to wake Qara early._

I flicked my eyes up and down the huge bull of a man disdainfully. "Hello Lorne, it's been awhile. I haven't seen you since I was a babe." I managed a heartfelt sigh and shook my head sadly. "Your mother would be _so_ disappointed to see you now."

Glancing at him from under lowered lashes I watched his face redden in anger and his hand jump to his weapon. As soon as he took one step forward, Nasher rose to his feet.

"So be it," he ground out from behind clenched teeth. "After the Rite is observed, the trial shall be held in the morning, upon the tourney grounds."

He turned to me, almost apologetically. "Arm yourself and be ready, squire - or choose a champion to fight for you. Because by the Gods, we have not come all this way for justice to be denied in this final hour."

Nasher stormed from the room and the crowd once again began its mutterings.

Torio and Lorne were quickly escorted out of the hall 'for their own protection' although the guards were a lot less gentle with their removal than they could have been. Not that I was complaining of course.

Shandra stared at me in horror. "What are you going to do? That monster… He's **huge**!"

"What am I going to do? Fight smarter than him." Lowly I added, "Not like that's going to be hard."

I heard low mumbling behind me. "Couldn't keep her mouth shut, no she had to go and provoke them."

"Sand, honestly. Whether I was silent or not the outcome would have been the same. I figured if they were going to try and kill me," I paused to clear my throat pointedly, "again. Then I might as well do my best to show them I'm not scared of them."

"Are you?" he asked doubtfully.

"Hells yeah! You saw him, he's a bloody mountain!"

"You hide it well. Let's hope your bravado saves you this time."

******

Staring at the statue in what was supposed to be a pious gaze, I let my mind wander as my eyes blurred for staring at the same damn thing for so long.

"It's just a statue, you know."

I swallowed my heart as it tried to jump out of my chest. _By the gods, if he doesn't stop sneaking up on me, I'm going to put a bell round his neck!_

His voice was back to what it was when we first started traveling together, that odd mix of coldness and scorn, mockery and candor. "Tyr isn't watching this, but I am."

I didn't move from my seat, and focused on the statue so I didn't have to see his handsome face. "Well, since Tyr can't see me, what do _you_ think of my chances?"

"Chances?" He shrugged as if he didn't care either way. "Not much."

I snorted. "And that's supposed to comfort me?"

"I'm not here to comfort you. I wouldn't insult you like that. If you need comfort, then you're weaker than I thought."

He pushed away from the door jam to stand in front of were I sat on a low bench. "If you want, I can help you deal with Lorne tomorrow. I've been watching him, I know how he fights."

"I don't need or want your help, Bishop."

He smiled slightly. "That's a good start. It's probably why I hate you a little less than your Uncle."

"Why are you really here, Bishop?"

He shrugged again casually, a movement that could be anything or nothing. "I don't know, really. Lorne bothers me. I think I'd like killing him."

He gave me a thorough appraisal. "You have nerve, I'll give you that, Still, I don't think you're going to make it, but I don't want to get bored tomorrow, so listen."

"Lorne's barely keeping it together at the best of times. I could tell at the trial, he wanted to fight you then and there - not the sign of someone in control. And you taunting him didn't improve his control either."

I grinned up at him proudly. I really had enjoyed the few jabs I was able to get in.

He ignored me and continued his lecture. "So do this - keep hitting him, but stay out of reach. He won't have any ranged weapons, he likes that falchion too much to fight smart."

"He doesn't like being weighed down with armor, so you shouldn't have trouble hitting him, so keep hitting him and hitting him and don't stop."

"And what's that going to accomplish?"

"At some point, he's going to lose it completely, go berserk - he'll be most dangerous then, but that's when you know you've got him desperate."

"He's not going to spare you, not after all Luskan went through to get you."

"Anyway, I've said enough. If you want me to fight for you tomorrow, I might do it, I might not. Ask for me before the fight, and if so, I'll step in." When he spoke, he looked everywhere but at me. I was glad of that since I couldn't keep the surprise off my face.

Getting to my feet, I paced around thoughtfully, considering his advice and his offer. I paused in front of an alcove in the wall, most likely used for displaying some relic or another. Since it was currently empty, I lifted my self up into it, sitting on the ledge with my legs dangling.

"I appreciate the offer Bishop, but I would never ask anyone to do that for me. It's my fight and I'm going to finish it one way or another. It's not like I'm a delicate flower of womanhood, to wither under a few drops of blood. Hells, I have no qualms with putting a blade in someone if they deserve it."

_Unfortunately it seems that more and more frequently people are deserving of it. That or my qualifications have lowered substantially._

I shrugged and leaned back to rest my shoulders against the wall behind me. "Besides, even if I did have you or anyone else fight, that would be a damn waste of blood. If you lose for some reason, you're dead and I'm executed."

He had wandered closer to me during my speech, his stride aimless, making it appear he was not attempting to come near me on purpose. Lowering my voice, I stared at the far wall. "I don't trust my fate to anyone but myself ranger. I've grown rather fond to my neck the length that it is."

"Even his high and mightiness?" His tone was carefully neutral, a little to neutral in fact.

"Casavir? There's no way in the hells I would trust him with my fate. He actually believes that things can be worked out without fighting. He would probably try to talk Lorne out of it, and get his head removed for his efforts. Yeah, definitely not one I would trust to keep me alive in this situation."

_But you're not wondering about Casavir, are you Bishop? You want to know what I think about you, don't you?_

I returned one of his appraising looks, eyeing him as if he were a horse I was looking to purchase. When his eyes narrowed in irritation, I smirked at him. Sliding off my perch I stalked over, circling him slowly.

A growl started in his throat. Deciding that I had teased him enough I stopped in front of him.

"You know, out of all of them, you would be the one I would trust the most. Not of course because I trust you, I'm not stupid enough for that, but because I see no gain in this for you. You're a better fighter than them, and you certainly aren't afraid of fighting dirty."

I gave him a cocky grin as I walked past. "In fact you almost might be a better fighter than me, or at least you could be eventually."

His hand shot out and caught my upper arm, jerking me back to him. His annoyed glare bore into my upturned face, darkening even more when I gave him a smirk. "If you survive this, we'll just see who is better," he growled.

"And if I don't survive?"

It was his turn to smirk. "Then I win."

Like a child I stuck my tongue out at him just to have a hand slid up to cup the back of my head. When his mouth approached my own, my heart sped and my lips parted eagerly.

_Well, if I am going to die tomorrow, might as well enjoy myself on the way out._

His lips stopped barely above mine, his breath flowing over my mouth in an agonizing caress. Then, without warning, he straightened and released me. Giving me an arrogant look, he turned and walked away. Before he disappeared into the shadows, he threw back, "Survive, and you might just get the opportunity to find out who's better. Not that we don't both know already. Still, it would be amusing to watch you try."

He left as silently as he came. Giving him a moment to be truly gone I snarled with the frustration that was caused by his mouth, and in more than just one way.

Looking to vent, I kicked the nearest statue (that just happened to be Tyr) in the shins. Pain shot through my foot and plopping down on the floor I rubbed it sulkily, all the while glaring at Tyr.

_I swear, it looks like that damn statue is grinning at me._


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 20

_Bishop paced in his room at the inn, unable to rest. Had he actually been so stupid as to offer to fight for her? If she couldn't defend herself, then she certainly didn't deserve his help, nor did she deserve to take up quite as much time in his thoughts and in his dreams as she did._

_The girl was dangerous, making him do idiotic things, making him offer to stay when his freedom was dangled in front of him. He still didn't know why he had offered to fight for her, but he did acknowledge the idea that having that lumbering beast of burden bare down on her made him strangely uncomfortable._

_He never cared about fairness or honor, only about what it took to be the one standing at the end, but still, he had a set of rules. The foremost being never start a fight you can't win. If someone starts something, __**they**__ need to finish it, not call in a lackey to do their wet work. _

_In the trial hall, Torio broke that rule. He had watched Kat's face closely at the announcement, wanting to see how she would react. She wasn't nearly as practiced at hiding her expressions as he was but her reaction perfectly mirrored what he felt._

_Surprise, anger, and then a grim eagerness. All this flowed over her in the space of a few seconds. She had started toward the Luskan bitch, intent on starting the battle then and there. His own fingers itched for his bow, wanting a chance himself at that she-dog before Kat reduced her to a bloody pulp._

_Everyone had been disarmed of all 'visible' weapons by the guards before being let into the hall, but he knew from experience she was no stranger to a fist fight. Bishop smirked to himself, lightly touching the now healed lip where she had hit him in the woods._

_Ah yes, the woods…_

_She had fought him there with such passion he couldn't help but wonder if she would be that enthusiastic in other… activities. She never gave ground to him, always fighting back, never yielding even when he had her unarmed and pinned against the tree. She might have actually won against him if she hadn't been so blinded by her anger._

_When she was helpless, she still tried to fight him, her struggles exciting him more than anything else ever had. Her lips had been parted from her exertion and her emerald eyes were dark in the moonlight. Her cheeks flushed from her struggles and her anger and in Bishop's eyes; she had never been so desirable._

_Even now the fire in his blood burned to recall the change in her, how her body had melted against his suddenly when she saw the damage she had done to his mouth. Watching her lick his blood from her lips was the most erotic site he had ever seen in all of his years. And when she kissed him, how he wanted to devour her then and there._

_When she came back to herself, her expression was priceless. She ran like a startled dear and the hunter in him very nearly won with the demand to follow her, to capture her and seize his prize._

_It was too soon for that though; he was enjoying her sharp tongue far too much to give that up just yet. He knew that once he got his prize, he would lose interest in her, just like he always had. He wasn't willing to close in on his prey quite yet._

_Instead he had stay in the clearing, licking her blood from his own lips, enjoying the copper sweet taste of her in his mouth. That mixed with her natural scent was a heady mix, more intoxicating than the strongest dwarven swill he normally drank._

_His body burned from both his memories and how easily her lips had parted at the mere hint of his kiss at the temple tonight. Knowing that she wanted him with the same intensity that he did her was an agonizingly delicious torture, and a distracting one. _

_Bishop had survived as long as he had by always being aware of everything around him and never losing focus. Scowling at the effect she had on him, he forced his body to cool. Spinning in his heel, he grabbed his bow and headed out to the forest, intent on killing something, anything. The cold calculation of the hunt would block out the image of her green eyes and the knowledge that after tomorrow, they most likely would never flash angrily at him again._

******

Last night was restless for me. After Bishop's appearance I spent the rest of the night nursing my foot and trying to think of ways to take down Lorne. As of this morning, I was still drawing a blank.

Hoping inspiration would strike; I looked out over the tourney grounds. I was surprised at just how many people showed up. All of my companions were there in the lower levels, except one. I looked everywhere, but still I couldn't find that stubborn ranger.

Unable to stop the feeling, I was slightly hurt. After all that talk last night about stepping in for me if I wanted him to, he must have took me at my word that I didn't need or want his help. Still, I would have thought he would at least come to see me die. I mean really, it seemed like something he would do in his free time anyway.

"You sure about this? It's not too late to choose someone else to fight for you. Not like I don't have faith in you, or anything."

I turned to see Shandra, who was trying to not let me notice her nervously twisting her hands behind her back.

I nodded. "We have talked about this already Shandra. This is my fight, and one way or another; I'm going to finish it."

"Why don't you go and try to move all of Faerûn while you're at it then? I mean, you don't even have any weapons!"

I glanced down at my empty sheaths and tried not to show my concern. "The blacksmith said he would bring my order here before the battle begins. It will be fine." My words were calm, but the palms of my hands were sweating nervously. Here I was at the fight of my life (quite literally) and I was going to be using untested blades of unknown workmanship that might or might not come in time.

_Yeah, that thought is definitely not a comforting one. _

She must have been able to notice my distress and spoke softly. "You know that some of the others have offered to fight for you, just say the word and I will go get them."

I shook my head. "My. Fight." I said stubbornly.

"You are so frustrating! You're being almost as pigheaded as that ranger you're constantly eyeing."

"Hey! I'm not constantly eyeing him. I'm… eh… making sure he isn't trying to kill us and things like that."

She looked at me knowingly. "Sure, of course you are."

Someone cleared their throat behind us, saving me from having to answer. I turned to see a lad about sixteen years old and covered in soot holding out a package to me.

"Lady Kathrynn?"

I nodded and reached out to take the package from him. The moment it was in my hands, I felt a sinking sensation.

"These are much lighter than what I ordered. Please tell me you didn't make something different."

He lad shook his head adamantly. "No yer ladyship. My master would ne'r do something like that unordered. One of yer friends did come by though to say these would be more to yer liking. We took him at his word." His face was distraught. "I'm hopen that everything is alright. My master would have my hide if hero like yerself fell because of us."

I managed a small smile at the boy and his distress immediately lessened. "Tell your master that everything is fine lad." I flipped him a gold coin and with a yank at his forelock, he scampered off as quickly as he came.

Setting the package on a nearby table, I carefully unwrapped the weapons. When they were uncovered I could only stand there and stare at them for quite some time.

"Kathrynn? Is everything alright? Isn't that what you wanted?" Shandra's voice was becoming more and more worried as I just stood their silently.

I reached out a finger to stroke one of the blades reverently.

Shandra peered over my shoulder, trying to find out what help me attention so completely. "Hey, those look kinda of familiar!"

I nodded slowly, picking up one of the dagger to examine it closely. The hilt fit the same as ever, as familiar to my hand as the touch of a loved one. Gripping it tightly, I felt an unexpected trill of energy along my skin. Focusing on it more closely, I could feel the energy pulsing in rhythm to the beat of my blood.

What ever had been added to the weapons was a powerful enhancement indeed. I just wished I knew what it did…

A feminine arm reached around, pointing at something on the other blade. "There's something tied to that one."

Setting the first blade in the sheath I had made for it years ago, I reached for the other. It didn't pulse happily like the first one; instead the smell of ozone wafted over me and my flesh tingled. I suddenly realized the enchantment on this one. Storing that knowledge for future use, I untied the note around the handle and read it privately, trying to keep it from Shandra's searching gaze.

The message was short, one line only, but as soon as I read it, I couldn't help but laugh.

_You still owe me a blade thief._


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 21

The Reverend Judge's voice rang out clearly, silencing the chatter in the stands. "What takes place in the field here today shall resolve the crime of the razing of the village of Ember and the death of its people. Is the accuser or her champion here?"

Lorne stepped forward, closer to the center of the area. "I am here."

"Is the accused or her champion here?"

I lifted my blade in a warrior's salute.

"We call upon Tyr to help us settle this matter. Tyr's judgment shall come forth - through blade and strength, through balance... and resolve."

The judge stepped back and Lord Nasher motioned for the fight to begin. I glanced into the bright blue sky and then grinned at Lorne. "Well, if one of us is going to die, at least it's a nice day."

He glared and brandished his weapon, trying to make me make the first move. Still I smiled. "You really should have visited you mother more often. She was always worried about you. Now I see why, you look like you could use a bit of mothering."

His face darkened in anger and his grip on his falchion tightened.

"Tell me Lorne Starling, was being a slave to Garius that much more fulfilling than having a home and family who loved you?"

_Make him angrier… Bishop, I certainly hope your advice was right._

His anger darkened face twisted into a savage snarl. "I'm going to carve my name in your hide while you still breathe."

I glanced around as covertly as possible, looking for the best possible place to fight him.

"Really? Can you spell it? Here, let me help. It's L.O.R.N…"

With a bellow he charged me, swinging his huge sword. His anger made him lose his firm footing and as soon as he was close enough, I sidestepped and gave him a little push in the direction of his charge.

_Oops, maybe a bit too angry._

The crowd roared as he fell to his face in the dirt, his arms and legs scrambling to find purchase.

"Come on Lorne," I called, "we're both Harbormen. We could call it a draw and go on with our lives. You could go see your mother and me, well… I could go take a bath or something."

He got to his feet, face flaming from rage and embarrassment. Rushing me again, I spun out of his reach. He swung wildly with his falchion again, the sharp edge looking to bury itself in my flesh.

"Last chance Lorne," I warned.

"I'm going to kill you just like I killed those idiots in Ember. You'll be on your knees begging for death before I'm done with you."

Clucking my tongue at him, I shook my head. "What is it with people wanting to see me beg? I'll tell you the same thing I told them; I've never been good at begging, so do you want to give me another option? That one really doesn't work for me."

By now the crowd was silent; anxiously trying to hear what was being said. He moved again, rage making him clumsy. I landed the first blow, pinking his arm with a well aimed strike.

"Well Lorne, it looks like you just filled your dance card."

******

_Air! Air is good. Lungs, work with me here!_

This battle was going on far longer than it should have. We each sported multiple cuts, but nothing large enough to slow either of us down. For the giant bull he resembled, he was actually a well trained fighter. Each hit on him only managed to make him angrier, make his attacks that much more wild.

Chest heaving from exertion and the quickly approaching exhaustion, I tried a different tactic. Instead of dancing out of the way of his next swipe, I closed in on him, thrusting my danger deep through the shoulder joint in his armor. The blade flared to life in my hand and suddenly I wasn't quite as tired as I was before. In fact, I felt more renewed with each pleasant pulse against my palm.

_Oh Bishop, you clever, clever bastard._

I made a mistake. So focused was I on sensations of the blade, I didn't notice the huge ham hock of a fist heading toward the side of my skull till I was sprawled on the ground, dazed.

_Stupid girl! Pay attention! Daeghun would have my hide if he saw that._

As I got up from the ground, I watched Lorne rip my dagger from his shoulder and toss it far to the side.

_And so I'm down to one._

At least now I knew how to release the enchantments. A mere scratch wouldn't do; no, the blades needed to bite deep to unleash their power.

_Very fitting ranger._

As Lorne approached me again, I rose to my feet and managed to take a look at him. For as much as I felt better, he looked worse. His face was paling and his movements no long had quite the same force behind them.

I parried an attack just a moment to late, taking a deep cut on my arm. For all the swinging he had been doing, my leather armor protected me from the worst of it. We both bled from multiple wounds but it seemed as though he had the worst of it. I wouldn't be able to actually evaluate the damage until afterwards though, if I survived.

Seeing an opening I switched the blade to the uninjured side and shoved my remaining dagger into his unprotected sword arm, desperately aiming for tendons or muscles.

My strike wasn't true, but the bold of electricity that coursed through his body did the same job. His bloodied falchion dropped from limp fingers, leaving him weaponless but not defenseless. Roaring like an enraged animal he flailed, trying to dislodge the blade and stop the shocks that were making his muscles twitch and jump.

He got free of the magic quicker than I expected and next thing I knew was me being slammed against the arena wall. My head struck the stone sharply sending spots instantly into my vision. I dropped were I stood, crumpling to the ground.

I tried to regain my wits. Any weakness now would most certainly land me in a six foot hole. Trying to shake my head to clear my vision, I had to bite back a wave of nausea.

I heard Lorne's roar and watched him charge me weaponless, intent on killing me with his bare hands. Pretending I was still injured, (_Pretending? HA) _I grasped at my boot for the one option left to me.

Lorne reached down, grasping my neck in his huge fist and I let him. For me to have any chance to win this fight I needed him to be close. Lifting me from my feet, his fingers tightened on my windpipe. I struggled halfheartedly, trying to save my strength for what I needed to do. When the dots started to form in front of my eyes, I knew it was time to move. Focusing everything I had, I brought up the knife and thrust it into his ear.

The blade was strong, made for the skinning and cleaning of animals. Luckily, Lorne was no better than one. After the bone gave, the blade sank deep and still Lorne didn't release me. His eyes were wide but if anything, his fingers tightened reflexively. Fighting back the darkness that threatened to take me and the screaming agony in my lungs, I desperately twisted Bishop's hunting knife, hearing the wet squelch as I rotated it in his brain. With a last hard twist, the hilt broke off in my hand.

The beast still stood. _Does this lummox not have a brain in that thick skull? _ It was too late for me though, my best just hadn't good enough. I stepped away from myself, watching my struggles quickly weaken. As they stopped completely, everything went black.

As I crumpled to the ground, my last thought was of him.

_You win ranger._

******

I must have only been out moments because when I came to, the pounding feet still hadn't reached me. The next thing I noticed was something warm and heavy crushing my chest. I pried an eye open and suddenly wished I hadn't.

Lorne's still was body had fallen onto mine, landing on me as if he was a lover. His head rested on the side of my neck and when I glanced down, the remains of the blade glinted cheerfully out the side of his skull.

Blood and thicker things masked the side of his head, but luckily for me, it no longer pulsed with his heart. I had to swallow the bile that rose bitterly in my throat. The crushing weight was suddenly lifted off and Lorne's body was thrown unceremoniously to the side. In the process though, a grey chunk slid off his face to slowly trace a wet path down my neck. I lost it.

Rolling quickly to my knees I displayed the contents of my stomach for all to see. My body shuddered with each racking heave until finally I dropped to the side, exhausted.

I laid in the dirt, trying not to focus on the milling sets of legs around me. All the movement made me feel as though I would be ill again. A gentle hand pushed at my shoulder, rolling me to my back.

A vaguely familiar face entered my field of vision. "Lady Kathrynn, how do you feel?"

Numb, I stared at the older man's face above me. After swallowing a few times I was able to croak past my burning throat. "I have a man's brain on my skin. How do you think I feel?"

His kindly face smiled slightly. "I was referring to you physical self, not your mental self."

"Oh… Like I want a bath… And a nap."

"You can not fall asleep I'm afraid my lady, you have sustained a nasty head injury. Until we are certain how much damage was done, you will not be able to take your nap."

I tried to glare in the man's general direction. "I remember you now. You're Nasher's physician. Well, let me tell you something _sir_, after all that I have been through recently, if I want a nap, I'm damn well taking a nap."

"You most certainly damn well will not."

I blinked then managed a small laugh. "I like you Doc, a lot better than Nasher's other toadies. You actually have your balls still connected."

I hear snickers all around and rolled my head to see several guardsmen standing about me, trying hard to keep straight faces.

I noticed two of the doctor's assistants coming to us carrying a stretcher between them. I glared at it distastefully.

Trying for what was supposed to be a charming smile, but more than likely just came off as lopsided, I grinned at the guards. "I don't suppose any of you handsome gentlemen would assist a lady to her feet? I would prefer to walk from the field of battle, not be carried from it."

The doctor looked doubtful. "I don't think that's wise."

I pouted at him cutely. Or at least tried to. It was hard to be cute when you're covered in blood and bits of a body. He gave a resigned sigh and motioned two men forward to lift me to my feet.

The world swam but at least I was standing.

_The day is starting to look up._

Once the land and air settled back into their normal places, I glanced around for my companions. They all still stood where they were at the beginning with one large difference. Casavir, Shandra, and Khelgar were all being physically restrained by the guards. I looked more closely and saw out of all of them; it was actually Shandra that the guards were having the hardest time holding on to.

I chucked to myself before wincing. _I wish someone would give me a list of things not to do when you have a head injury. Even laughing makes it pound._

To one of the guards holding me up, I made a vague gestured vaguely to my friends. "What's with them?"

The guard smiled slightly. "It seems you command quite a bit of loyalty from your companions. When that Luskan dog first slammed you into the wall, all of them attempted to jump the railing. I never thought I would see a man in full plate armor try to vault an eight foot wall."

I managed to snort without injuring myself and let them lead me over to the booth where Nasher sat high above me. Torio sat in the box with him, but by now she was surrounded by Neverwinter guards.

Nasher stood from his seat and the crowd instantly went silent.

"Justice has been served. My judgment passed at the trial shall now take effect, as was intended. The Arcane Brotherhood of Luskan is to leave the city of Neverwinter within three days time, and they are not to be permitted within our walls again, by royal decree. The possessions of the champion of the Luskan ambassador, Lorne, are to become the property of the accused."

_Wonderful. Ugh._

He turned to me, a pleased look in his eyes even though his face retained its noble expression. "To the accused - I believe you are in need of a well-deserved rest. Please return to the Sunken Flagon - that is a command from your Lord, soldier of Neverwinter."

My head began pounding from the roar of the crowd. Leaning on the guard I spoke to earlier I whispered, "Get me out of here before I fall on my face in front of everyone if you please."

He nodded firmly and with a small gesture all the soldiers fell into to rank behind me, an honor guard that somehow managed to make it look as though they were following out of respect, and not for the purpose of keeping me on my feet.

Life was good.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 22

I sat on my bed, turning the large falchion over and over in my hands when a soft knock came at my door.

"Come in."

At my answer, Casavir stepped inside. "How are you feeling my lady?" he asked, approaching to assess what remained of my injuries.

"Much better thank you," I smiled at him. "My arm is a little stiff but nothing some training wouldn't work out."

"And your head?"

I wrinkled my nose. "I've still been getting the dizzy spells if I move to quickly, but all in all, it looks like I'm on the mend."

He nodded, pleased with my recovery. "Good, although I wish you would let me heal those bruises. But now if I may ask, how are _you_ feeling?"

When I glanced up at him confused, he looked pointedly at the falchion in my hands.

"Ah, you mean this." I stared down at the weapon, searching for the right words and remembering the man who once held it.

"He wasn't always bad you know. I mean, he always had a temper but he was never like this." I smiled at a long forgotten memory. "Bevil and I used to spy on him all the time when he was with his friends or a girl. He would always catch us, and he would be mad at first, but in the end he would just laugh and chase us off."

My smile faded. "I remember when he left. His mother was devastated. Gods how she cried that day," I said softly. Pained, I looked into Casavir's blue eyes searching for the forgiveness I doubted I would ever get from Retta. "She was like a mother to me and all I could do was just hug her as she cried. I wanted to stop him, to show him what he was doing to her, but I was only ten, what could I have done?"

Tears stung the back of my eyes and I blinked furiously to clear them. Unfortunately I couldn't blink fast enough to hide the tell-tale shine. Casavir sat down next to me and cautiously put his arm around my shoulders. When I didn't pull away he gave them a comforting squeeze.

"You did what you had to my lady. She can not blame you for saving yourself. Her son is…was not the man you and she remember. You said it yourself at the trial."

I nodded, knowing he was right, but it still didn't relieve the burden that sat on my shoulders.

"I know, but I need to go back and tell her what happened. I have to tell the one woman who was like a mother to me, that I killed her first born." I stood, letting his arm fall from around me. Pacing the room like a caged animal I finally stopped in front of the window, unable to look at him right away.

"You know that the worst part is? The absolutely worst part?" I gathered up the strength to turn to him, wanting to see his reaction. "The fact that I don't regret killing him. It was his life or mine and he had already forfeited his when he razed Ember. I'm glad he's dead."

I waited for his response, waited for him to tell me how it was wrong to take pleasure in another person's death but he simply looked at me thoughtfully.

"Do not blame yourself for doing what needed to be done. His fate at your hands was far kinder than what he should have received."

I sighed. "I know, I know. Still, it's not a talk I'm looking forward to."

"Kathrynn?"

I turned to see Shandra sticking her head through the door, a concerned expression on her face.

"There are some of Nasher's guards here to see you."

"By the hells, if they are here to accuse me of something else, could you tell them to come back tomorrow?? I haven't even had time to do anything bad!"

She rolled her eyes, clearly not amused with my sense of humor. "I don't think they are here to arrest you, but they said it was urgent."

I sighed. "Fine, let them know I'll be down in just a minute."

She nodded and scampered off, but not before looking curiously at Casavir sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Well, looks like I'm being summoned again. But Casavir? I know we don't see eye to eye on some things, but thank you for, well… everything."

Before he could say anything that would make it uncomfortable, I smiled wanly at him and headed down the stairs to see what Nasher wanted with me this time.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 23

I glared around the room at the Sunken Flagon, making sure I had everyone's attention before I made my announcement.

"If anyone… _**anyone**__…_ gets kidnapped again, you're staying kidnapped! Do you understand me?"

Duncan glanced around, trying to find out who was missing. His eyes lingered on Shandra and she had the decency to blush.

"Hey! That wasn't my fault. I didn't ask to get kidnapped!"

"Twice," Qara amended loudly.

"Twice? I was only kidnapped once!"

"Yeah," Qara shot back, "But we still had to go rescue you twice. You should have learned to stay out of trouble the first time."

"I didn't see you on the rescue mission, Miss High and Mighty, so why don't you-"

I pinched the bridge of my nose and prayed for patience as those two continued their argument.

"So, who's missing this time?" Casavir asked, also looking around to see who was missing.

"Just our friendly neighborhood sage."

Duncan's slightly pointed ears perked up. "Sand?" he asked hopefully.

"I'm right here, you overgrown baboon," Sand muttered from behind him. Duncan's face fell, disappointed.

In spite of the situation, I was hard pressed to hide a smile. "No, it's Aldanon that's missing."

Casavir glanced to the empty corner where Bishop normally sat. "Is Bishop also missing? No one has seen him in nearly a week."

"Don't sound so hopeful paladin," came a cool voice behind me. "You just might make me think you don't want me around."

I glanced over my shoulder to see Bishop leaning in the doorway of the Flagon, as casual as could be. It looked like he had been out of the city for some time. The golden brown stubble that seemed to permanently shadow his jaw had grown freely, making his face appear softer somehow, less harsh. It also looked as though he hadn't seen the inside of a wash tub the entire week.

From her place by the door, Qara wrinkled her nose. "Ugh you're back. If you're going to smell like the unwashed masses, couldn't you do it elsewhere?"

He smirked at her. "Did you miss me princess?"

"Hardly," she snorted. "Even with Sand still here, it was starting to feel a bit more civilized while you were gone. So why don't you do us all a favor and go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of?"

His smirk widened. "But if I did that, it would be harder for you to hide in the bushes when I bathe."

Qara's face flamed as red as her hair and her mouth worked wordlessly for a few moments.

"Really princess, if you wanted a man that much, you should have said something. I'm sure we could have found you someone desperate enough to put up with you for a few minutes. Although… Maybe it would be easier if we got you a gag."

"Bishop!" Casavir boomed; outraged while poorly smothered giggles came from the back of the room.

I waved Casavir down and nodded calmly to the man in the door. "Bishop. I'm surprised you showed up. Welcome back."

He pushed off the doorframe and sauntered inside coming to stand before me. "What can I say? Life just seems to be so much more interesting around you. Besides, I get to kill more Luskans when I'm with you. Speaking of-" Gripping my chin in a strong hand, he tilted my head to the light to take a better look at the bruise still marring my cheekbone and the necklace of fingerprints on my throat.

"It looks like you didn't take my advice kitten," he purred, glancing at Casavir from the corner of his eye. "I thought I told you to stay out of reach."

I gave him a look that clearly said I knew what he was doing and wasn't pleased. "You know me; I like to work up close and personal. Besides," I dropped my voice, my next words for him alone, "I wanted to try out my new toys."

He barely nodded to acknowledge me; instead he ran a finger lightly over the marks on my neck, making a shiver run down my spine. For a moment I was lost in his eyes and in the sensations his light touch was making. I licked my suddenly dry lips, and remembering everyone standing around us, pulled my chin from his grasp.

His look turned calculating and he called out, "What's wrong paladin, these little bruises beyond your ability to heal?"

I could nearly hear Casavir grinding his teeth. "She would not allow me to heal them," he spat out from behind clenched teeth.

"Maybe she doubted you could. She probably didn't want to make you feel… inadequate."

My eyes narrowed, annoyed by his favorite hobby of paladin baiting.

"Actually Bishop, he's been taking _very_ good care of me since the fight, not of course that you would know that. As for the bruises, I wanted to keep them as a reminder."

"Of what?" he drawled.

I smiled coldly at him. "That no matter how close someone gets to you, you can still bring them down if you have to."

Approval flashed through his eyes and he gave me a slow, pleased smirk.

Off in the corner I heard Neeshka mutter to Khelgar, "Those two are kinda creepy together."

Simultaneously, Bishop and I turned to give her the same feral grin.

"Creeeeeeepy."

"If you two are done scaring the locals," Sand cut in, "could we get back to the task at hand, please?"

I nodded, eyeing both Bishop and Casavir warily, watching to make sure they didn't go for each others throats while I spoke with the others. "Nasher summoned me earlier to say that there was a disturbance at Aldanon's house and that he was taken. Reports have come in and looks as through he is being held by Garius in some place called Crossroad Keep."

Qara groaned. "Do we really have to go rescue that bumbling fool? He's been nothing but a pain since we met him."

Sand coughed quietly. "The same could be said of you girl."

A fireball came instantly to the sorceress' hand. "I'll show you just how much of a pain I can be wizard!"

"Children! If you can't play nicely together, I'll lock you both in an anti-magic area with nothing but padded clubs!"

"He started it," she sulked, clenching her hand around the flaming orb to squash it with a puff of smoke.

"I don't care who started it, I'm finishing it damn it!" I glared warningly at both of them. "Now can I continue or do we need to wait for you two to kiss and make up?"

A look of absolute horror crossed Qara's face and Sand's shoulders made a heaving motion the looked suspiciously like he was trying not to lose his lunch.

"Good, now that that's settled, I was just going to say that we need to go get him, especially since he's the only one who can help us find Jerro's haven."

"Then we need to head out at once and retrieve him," Casavir said, looking as if he was ready to leave now.

"Easy there my friend. Something tells me that since they took the trouble to kidnap him, they want something from him. Knowing Aldanon, getting what they want could take a while. It… eh… tends to take a bit to figure out what he is trying to say. I think we have a little bit of time at least. Let's prepare for now and head out at daybreak."

******

I knocked quietly on Bishop's door, afraid he would be there, afraid he wouldn't.

"What?" a voice snarled from the other side of the door.

Taking a deep breath I pushed to door open just enough to slip inside. Shutting it softly behind me I glanced over to see Bishop's bare back. I stood frozen, my purpose and the small cloth wrapped bundle in my hand momentarily forgotten. Stunned, my eyes followed a single drop of water that fell from his wet hair to land on his bronze skin. It traced a lazy path, following the muscular contours of his body as it trickled hypnotically down to his narrow waist. I bit my lip, trying to quell the desire to trace the path with my tongue and lick the moisture from his skin.

_Whoa there girly, a few kisses and suddenly you can't keep focused on the task at hand. Eyes off the half naked ranger that's standing there… half-naked._

_I'm still staring. Why am I still staring? Was there some paralysis trap on the door??_

The dry scrape of a blade over flesh is finally what broke the spell. I tore my gaze reluctantly from the tantalizing sight before me, meeting his eyes in the small wall mirror that hung over a wash basin. My face flamed and I started to stutter something, only to shut my mouth with a snap when I saw the cold amusement in his face.

He never said a word, just continued running the razor sharp knife over his throat watching me all the while. Rinsing the blade in the basin before him, he brought it back up to slowly drag it along his jaw.

I cleared my throat. "I… I just wanted to say thank you."

He gave an imperceptible shrug and continued running the blade over his skin.

"Yeah, so um… thanks. I'll just go now I guess."

I had turned to leave when he finally spoke.

"You keep up at this pace and you'll owe me more than you could ever repay."

Stiffening indignantly, I spun to give him a piqued look. "I never asked for your help Bishop. How can I owe you for something when I never asked for it in the first place?"

Setting the blade down, he reached for a towel. "You're still alive aren't you?"

"Yeah, as of the last time I checked."

"That's how."

_Gods! How he infuriates me! How can he be so tempting one moment and so aggravating the next??_

"You're saying I'm alive because of you? I admit having my own blades helped and the new enchantments were a definite improvement but I think that _my_ skills had a bit more to do with it than the weapons. Besides, how would you even know? You didn't bother showing up."

He looked at me coolly.

I gritted my teeth and tried to keep my voice level. "Fine," I bit out sarcastically, "you saved my ass out there. You and you alone. I had nothing to do with it, nothing what so ever. Which is why_** I**_ had the man's brain all over me, because I did nothing. It was all because of your stupid hunting knife."

I stalked across the room, more annoyed with him that I could ever recall being. "Here," I snapped, shoving the wrapped bundle hard against his bare chest. "Since you seem to love holding the damn thing over my head so much, there ya go. Now will you please shut up about it?!?"

I stormed out, not caring that I looked like an angry child. Just for good measure I slammed the door shut behind me, relishing the loud bang that accompanied my exit.

******

_Bishop had to hold back a laugh when she stormed out the door, slamming it shut behind her. _

_Chuckling softly to himself he carefully unrolled whatever it was that she shoved at him. He wasn't surprised when the soft cloth revealed his broken hunting knife, still encrusted with Lorne's blood. He grinned down at the gory trophy, pleased with its return, and even more pleased with its final use._

_There was something else in the cloth. Curious now, he unraveled it further to find a new hunting knife. He eyed it critically, unsheathing it slowly. The grip felt good in his hand, almost as familiar as the broken one. His grin faded as he looked at it more closely. It appeared that the hilt was custom made to match the first but with one small difference. There were now extremely faint etchings on the handle that glowed ever so softly as he tried to read them. Never one for mage craft, he was still able to recognize the elven symbols inscribed._

_They were minor enchantments, one so it would never need sharpening and another to keep it from ever breaking. There was one other that he couldn't make out until he noticed that no matter which way he turned the blade in the light, it never reflected. _

_It was practical, deadly and beautiful. All were qualities that were good in a weapon, but as he was finding out, they were even better in a woman._


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 24

Bodies were piled high around us, the moans of the dying cut short as our soldiers finished off some of the more stubborn Luskans. Yet another explosion rocked the ground and I looked toward the massive keep doors to see if any headway was being made.

A fair haired elf, Commander Vale I believe he had introduced himself as, was angry. "Damn it. Nathe, Sevann - I want those doors open. Now."

"Vale, we're being counter spelled. I don't think we're going to be able to open the doors from this side," one of the spell casting elves called back, face strained from the amount of spells he had just hurled at the doors.

"Wonderful," Vale grumbled. "Looks like the Brotherhood has a few tricks of its own."

"Well, it won't save them once we get inside, trust me."

I glanced at Qara with a raised brow at her tone. Instead of the grim expression that everyone else wore, she actually looked eager for what was coming.

_Well, what can I expect from a homicidal pyromaniac sorceress with a short temper? Caution and a sound strategy? _

Vale stood up straighter, eyeing our group appraisingly and making a decision. "All right - backup plan. I know this keep has an escape tunnel somewhere. I want you to find the tunnel exit and use it to get inside the keep. Once you're inside, kill whichever wizards are countering our spells so we can open the doors."

"Alrighty, wait here and don't do anything stupid while I'm getting the doors open." I motioned my companions to move out, taking care not to trip over any of the many bodies lying in our path.

Everyone followed closely with the exception of Bishop. Of course he had to be away from us, on his own path as usual. Inside I was seething, still irritated from the little episode in his room back at the inn. I wasn't speaking to him even now, two days later.

Instead of respecting my silence, he seemed to be amused by it, doing everything in his power to get a rise out of me. Even as I strengthened my resolve that he wouldn't see a reaction from me for anything he did, I suddenly heard a wet thud and felt a warm moist spray splatter across my cheek. Sensing something rolling towards me I looked down and immediately wished I hadn't.

Pressed up against my feet was a freshly severed head, brown eyes open and staring, mouth gaping in a silent scream. Slowly my eyes rose from the gruesome sight to find Bishop calmly cleaning his longsword off on the newly headless body that was pinned by dozens of arrows to the courtyard gates.

Noticing my glare, he shrugged. "He was still moving," he said casually, sheathing his weapon.

I kept walking, biting my tongue to keep from responding. Luckily Casavir had no qualms about opening his mouth though.

"Bishop!" he exclaimed sharply, "That was uncalled for. That man couldn't have been moving; you made sure of that when you impaled him with half your quiver. Besides, I saw what you just did. You purposefully struck so that Lady Kathrynn would be hit. If you can't respect those who have fallen, at least have some for her. Since it seems that you are unable to do that, than perhaps its best that you leave."

"Oh you'd like that wouldn't you paladin? Why don't we ask her what she thinks of my _respect_? Or are you afraid of what you might find out?"

I was valiantly fighting back the snarl that threatened to curl my lips. I had enough of listening to them. Leaving them to bicker, I strode away looking for the tunnel Vale had told us about. The soon we got there, the sooner we could get Aldanon and get out of here. I for one was definitely looking forward to getting back to the Flagon where I could hide in my room and get away from all of them, at least for a while.

******

I carefully opened the heavy door, wincing when a loud squeal came from its rusty hinges. I froze, waiting for an alarm to be raised, but when none was forthcoming, I cautiously crept into the crumbling library.

The room was silent except for an occasional scurrying sound. Determined to keep it that way, I made my way through the stacks of book carefully. Stopping short, I cam across a large rat sitting on a filthy table chewing on the remains of what looked to be yesterday's dinner. With a grimace I tried to shoo the thing away but it just looked at me reproachfully and continued its feast.

The rodent and I locked eyes, neither of us prepared to move till the other was gone. It was a contest of wills, one that sadly I was losing. I finally wrinkled my nose in disgust at the beast and prepared to leave it to its dinner and take another path through the library.

"Don't tell me that you're afraid of rats."

I bit back a girlish scream when the low voice sounded right next to my ear. Whirling, I spun to find Bishop standing right behind me looking amused. Momentarily forgetting that I wasn't speaking to him I snapped, "Afraid of rats? Of course not, I let **you** travel with us didn't I?"

He gave a humorless snort. "Then get moving," he growled, shoving me forward.

I dug in my heels. "I'm not afraid of rats," I admitted reluctantly, "I just don't like them very much. You're a ranger; can't you talk to it or something?"

An exasperated grunt was his only response until without warning, an arrow whizzed by my ear to bury itself with a muffled thud into the rat. I didn't have time to even turn before I felt his hands at the small of my back again propelling me onward.

"My hero," I muttered sarcastically, stepping over the rodent's fallen body. "Eloquent as always."

"Where are the others?" I asked as I peered down between two huge rows of bookcases. "If you killed them, you and I are going to be having a very unpleasant chat you know."

"Do they really mean that much to you?"

"They're my friends Bishop. Do you even know what that word means?"

"Friends are just those who use each other until it's no longer convenient to. After that, they're just someone you don't need to necessarily kill right away."

I glanced over my shoulder at him. "And what are you and I?" I asked tonelessly.

His amber eyes narrowed but for the first time, he seemed at a loss for what to say.

"Your _friends_," he snarled finally, "are back near the tunnel, looking for a way to get to the front to get the damn gate open."

I was saved from having to respond by the sight of a graying head bend over a huge stack of tomes. I could hear Bishop's bowstring tightening as he notched an arrow but I quickly waved him down.

"Aldanon," I called softly. He continued to mutter to himself, apparently oblivious to my presence. "Aldanon," I tried again, a bit louder. Still he didn't acknowledge me. Holding in a sigh I crept closer to him, trying to see if there were any guards hiding nearby. "Aldanon!" I hissed, shaking my head in frustration when he _still_ didn't move.

_Oh by the gods, this man is going to be the death of me._

Abandoning caution, I rose fully and strode over to him. "Aldanon!" I said loudly in his ear. The poor man jumped and looked up at me.

"Oh. I say... I remember you. You were the one with those interesting silver shards. Although I'm afraid I'm not certain if I introduced myself the first time we met. Did I?"

"Yes, you did, Aldanon."

"Excellent, good to see I haven't _completely_ forgotten my manners. Tend to be a little forgetful at times, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm aware of that. We're here to rescue you, by the way."

"Oh, yes, that's right, I was captured, wasn't I? Truth be told, I totally forgot about it - they gave me these tomes and some peace and quiet, and, well, I suppose I just lost track of time. You see, these books, they all concern some sort of horrific ritual, something about bringing shadows and power to all the recipients involved. I haven't gotten all the details down yet, wanted to do a thorough study first, but it all seems terribly threatening. Don't care for it at all," he tisked.

"Why would they have these books?"

He thought about it for a moment before casually saying, "I suspect they intend to invoke these dark arts. If so, they'd best be careful. The slightest disruption could have lethal consequences."

"Mark my words, it always pays to triple check all your wards and post guards to prevent interruptions if you ever plan to do something of the sort." He nodded knowingly

"You know, it does remind me of this one time where I had let my wards down to let a messenger in, and this kidnapper struck, completely uns..."

"We don't have time for this old man," Bishop snapped.

"Well now," he protested, "I don't know if there's any hurry to leave, really - _I'm_ certainly not concerned. And there are all these wonderful books. I mean just look. It's a true copy of the Guide to Unlawful Carnal Knowledge! The spells within it are really quite interesting."

I glanced at Bishop over Aldanon's head. He must have been familiar with the book because he wore an interested expression. Suddenly he shuddered and his face contorted with disgust. Making a mental note to ask him later what was in the book, I grabbed the older man under the arms and hauled him out of his chair.

Shouting and the sounds of battle could be heard from across the keep. "Time to go," I said, shoving Aldanon toward Bishop.

"Get him out of here," I snapped when Bishop looked ready to argue with him. At his mutinous expression, I softened my tone. "Please, I trust you to get him out of here alive. I can't do it myself."

He glared at me but grabbed the sage's arm. "You'll owe me for this," he muttered as he led him away from the sounds of battle. I gave him a distracted nod and unsheathed my weapons. Without a backwards glance I took off in a sprint, determined to join the fray before it was to late.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 25

I awoke with a start, momentarily disoriented as I tried to recall where I was.

_Crumbling walls, debris, burnt out buildings, odd smells. What __**is**__ that? Smells like smoke and death and… dog breath?_

Before I could look to see what was causing it, two yellow eyes appeared above mine and a long wet tongue lapped at my nose.

"Gah! Good morning to you too, Karnwyr." Sitting up, I shoved the wolf's face from mine and gave him a little scratch when he looked disappointed. Stroking his soft ear I glanced around and remembered where I was.

Crossroad Keep. I sitting on the charred ground surrounded by the rubble and debris of the crumbling walls. After Black Garius' death last night we were to exhausted to head back to Neverwinter. Unsure as to the structural integrity of the keep itself; we made camp in the courtyard, as far as possible from the piled bodies of the Luskan soldiers.

I sniffed. _Ugh, smells like we didn't camp far enough away._

Rising to my feet I headed over to my friends, nudging them awake with my foot.

"Rise and shine boys and girls, time to move."

Casavir rose immediately, but Qara just curled deeper under her cloak. I made a move to nudge her again with my foot when I heard her mumble sleepily, "You touch me with that filthy thing and I swear I'll disintegrate it."

"Well, little miss sunshine, get your rear out of bed and I won't have to. How you can lay there though with this stench around us is beyond me anyways."

"I'm used to being surrounded by horrible odors. I mean, have any of you even _heard_ of a bath?"

"Hey! I do not stink!"

Qara snorted but rolled out of bed and started packing up her stuff. Indignantly I stood there with my hands on my hips stewing over her quip. As soon as her back was turned though, I bent my head and took a sniff under my arms._ Ugh! Ok, so maybe I could use a bath as soon as humanly possible. I'd like to see her jump into a fight physically and come out smelling like roses though. All she has to do is wiggle her little fingers, something not known for its strenuous exertions._

A low chuckle came from behind me. Bishop stood packed and ready to go, an amused look on his face. The bastard had obviously seen me sniffing myself and was enjoying the annoyed expression on my face.

"Do you ever sleep?" I snapped at him, irritated that he saw me and that he had obviously been up for some time without waking the rest of us.

"Why don't you come to my bed tonight and find out for yourself?" he purred, smiling slowly.

I stared at him, trying to stop the flood of images that rushed to my head.

_A fire crackled a short distance away throwing shadows on the forest around me. A bed of sumptuously soft furs was stretched out casually next to it. It looked comfortable and inviting, but even more inviting was the man sprawled on the furs. He was leaning back on his elbows, the fire turning the skin of his bare chest to gold. Rock hard muscles glinted faintly in the light, winking at me, drawing my attention lower until my eyes reached the fur blanket barely covering his hips._

_A slight shift caused the fur to fall lower, allowing me a teasing glimpse of the light brown hair low on his abdomen. My widened eyes jerked to his, staring helplessly into a gaze that was heavy with sleep and with something else._

_His lips began to move as if he was going to speak._

"My lady, will we be staying to bury the dead, or shall we head back to Neverwinter at once to inform Lord Nasher of Garius' death?"

_No, no, that's not right._

_His cruel lips twisted in a smile of welcome and dark promise. Opening his mouth he said:_

"Lady Kathrynn, are you all right? You seem far away. Perhaps we should get you away from all of these corpses."

I shook myself mentally at that and realized it was Casavir speaking to me, not the golden figure from my fantasies. Cheeks flushing to a horrified red I mumbled something and hurried away, trying carefully not to meet anyone's eyes.

No luck.

Strong fingers wrapped around my arm.

"It would be all that and more," Bishop murmured lowly, somehow knowing exactly what I was thinking.

I jerked my arm from his grip and tried to cover my mortification. "I don't know what you're taking about."

_Oh good. That sounded strong. I hope._

He smirked knowingly but thankfully let me pass without another comment. I grabbed my stuff and headed for the road intent on heading back to Neverwinter as quickly as possible.

******

"My lady, you have been abnormally quiet recently. Is anything wrong?"

Back in my normal place at the Flagon, I cocked an eyebrow at Casavir. "Abnormally? Are you trying to tell me I talk to much?"

He smothered a smile and shook his head. "Of course not," he assured me with laughter hiding in his voice. "I merely noticed you haven't been you're normal teasing self recently."

Shrugging, I looked down into my tankard. "Sorry. I guess I just have been thinking about what I need to do next."

Casavir's smile faded into a look of concern. "You mean going after the King of Shadows?"

Startled, I leaned back in my chair and gave a surprised laugh.

"What's so amusing?"

"The fact that I have been so busy thinking about what I have to do, that I completely forgot about that," I said wryly.

His blue eyes widened. "There is something more important than that on your mind?"

"No, just something I would rather do even less. I would much rather hunt down the King and kill him then go back to West Harbor and talk to Retta."

Calloused fingers covered my own around my cup. "I would be happy to come with and lend you support. It is a hard thing that you are doing, but it is necessary. I am sure the news will be better coming from you than any other."

"Well now, isn't this touching? A paladin willing to shoulder someone else's problems. What a surprise," Bishop drawled, swinging into the chair next to me, a tankard of ale in his own hand. "Here's a new idea for you _paladin_. Why don't you let her handle her own problems without trying to protect her? _I_ know that she doesn't need protection, no matter how weak _you_ think she is."

Casavir pulled his hand back and glared at Bishop. "I simply offered to lend moral support in her return home and with the news she needs to-"

Swiftly I kicked him under the table, wanting to stop him before he told the other man why I was heading back to the swamp. Unfortunately I had forgotten that he was still armored and all I managed to do was injure my booted foot on his plate clad shin. Biting my lip against the yelp that tried to escape I glanced around casually, pretending that nothing had happened.

Bishop glared at me with disgust. "You're actually going back to your little swamp village because of that Luskan bastard? What for? You actually care that you killed him?" He scoffed, annoyed with me for some reason.

"Actually no," I snapped. "I'm going back to tell the woman who practically raised me that I killed her son. Maybe I can tell her how much of a murdering bastard he was while I was at it. Or maybe I should just describe how pieces of his brain decorated my flesh when it leaked out of his head. Would that be more to your liking??"

"Kathrynn!" Casavir admonished. "Was that really necessary?"

Bishop smiled slowly. "Well, when you put it that way perhaps I should come with you. I wouldn't want to miss this. And I could lend _my_ support."

I snorted. "Bishop, you're about as supportive as a dagger in the back."

His grin widened. "At least we understand each other."


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah. Oh yeah. Drugs are bad mmm'kay?

Chapter 26

"Well, this is it. Home."

There was silence behind me as the others looked around the tiny town.

"Well," Shandra said cautiously. "It's certainly different that where I imagined where you grew up."

"Kathrynn!"

Everyone turned to see Georg bearing down on us. As soon as he reached our party he swept me into a huge bear hug, lifting me off my feet. Laughing, I hugged him back and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"By the gods lass, it's good to see you again. We've missed you around here. After what happened during the attack, we weren't sure if you would ever come back to see us.

"And just what happened during the attack?" Bishop asked as he came to stand beside me, glancing coldly at Georg's arm around me.

Georg released me and stepped back with an assessing look at the ranger. "Hnh. Looks like you picked up an admirer. Well met there, boy. You sweep her off your seat from some seedy tavern, did you?"

Bishop smiled, enjoying Casavir's sudden discomfort. "Oh, yeah, she wasn't even conscious when we were married."

"Well said, well said. In that case boy, let me tell you about that night." He wrapped his arm around Bishop's shoulder and led him away. "You should have seen her, it was amazing…"

As they wandered off I sighed to myself. Poor Georg had no idea how much danger he was courting by being so friendly with the ranger. I wouldn't be surprised if Bishop tried to feed him that arm before the conversation was over.

"Well, where to first?" Shandra asked.

I smiled brightly at her, trying to cover the sinking sense of dread. "Why don't we go see if my father is home? We can get something to eat, maybe take a nap…"

"My lady, are you _sure_ that's what you _need_ to do first?" Casavir asked, looking at me pointedly.

I wrinkled my nose. "No," I huffed. "I guess I'll go see Retta. Why don't you go wander around and see some of the sights? There's a moldy log over in that end of the village and some rocks to look at over on the other side."

"If you're positive you don't want us to join you, I'm sure Lady Shandra and I can find something to keep us occupied."

I raised an eyebrow. With that slight pause at the end, had it been from anyone but Casavir, it would almost sound like he was flirting. Glancing at Shandra I noticed her cheeks flushed slightly and she was making a thorough examination of the ground.

_Well, that's interesting._

Leaving the two to entertain themselves I walked slowly in the direction of Retta's home, the butterflies in my stomach getting more active with each step. Wanting to avoid any run-ins with people until my task was done; I kept to the shadows walking in near invisibility the old paths of my youth. The buildings in the village that were destroyed in the attack had been rebuilt exactly the same as before. Had it not been for my heavy heart I could have easily forced myself to believe that I had never left this place.

Before I even realized it I was there, standing before the familiar door of the Starling farm. With a deep breath, I raised my hand to knock only to have the door swing open before me.

"Kathrynn?" Retta's startled face gaped at me momentarily before breaking into a huge welcoming smile.

"My sweet girl! You're home! Come in, come in, I was just on my way to get Bevil for lunch. You must come in and join us. How are you? Where did you go while you were away? Have you seen your father?"

She broke off and gave me a hug. "Listen to me, I'm prattling on like an old fool," she said with a laugh. "Come sit down, I'm sure you're tired from your journey. I'll go get Bevil, I know he will be glad to see you."

I hugged her closer letting my self revel in her comforting warmth and scent for a short time.

She pulled back slightly to get a good look at my face before her arms tightened around me.

"Oh dear, what happened?"

I cleared my throat. "It's good to see you Retta. I'm afraid you may not be happy to see me though."

She paled slightly. "You have news of Lorne?" she asked quietly.

At my nod she led us over to a small table she used when she wanted to relax. A delicate teapot sat steaming, its fragrant aroma familiar. Setting down two fragile porcelain cups she poured some tea into each with the grace of a movement long practiced.

I waited silently as she fixed my tea exactly as I liked it, knowing without asking how much sugar and cream to add. Pushing the cup into my hands she bade me to take a drink. I sipped slowly at the hot liquid, the taste and smell taking me back to happier times.

At least once a week, I would come over while Bevil was out and sit here with Retta, drinking this same tea and just talking. We would talk about everything. Difficulties with my father, hopes for the future, what someone had said to me, my getting ejected from the small one room classroom because of my reaction to what that person said to me… While I talked she would just sit there listening with a smile on her face, slowly sipping her old tea.

She would sometimes talk about her time in Neverwinter, or how she met her husband. How her eyes would light up in remembrance of those times. There would be a small grin playing at the corners of her lips as she spoke, telling me there was more to what she said that what she was telling. That smile always made me think she was quite a hell raiser in her youth.

She would also speak her of her children, of Bevil and of the younger ones. Only rarely would she mention her oldest.

_Lorne._

I glanced at the woman across from me as I set my cup down.

Her eyes were sad. "He's dead isn't he?"

Wordlessly I nodded, my throat tightening at her small sigh.

"Tell me what happened to him."

I swallowed hard. Trying to spare her the painful details of her son's betrayal I told her in the simplest terms possible, "He fell in battle."

Pale blue eyes searched mine. Retta shook her head. "If he did, it wouldn't have been on the side of Neverwinter," she said dully. "I knew eventually he would fall into the wrong crowd and get into trouble. Tell me what really happened."

In a halting voice I told her everything. Ember, the trial, the evidence, and finally the fight. She listened without comment the entire time, closing her eyes briefly at some of the more brutal moments. When I came to a stop she sat there for several minutes without saying anything.

Finally she looked at me with dry eyes. "I'm sorry for what he put you through. You did what you had to and I want you to know, I wouldn't trade you for him for the world."

Trying to shove down the lump in my throat I gripped her hand tightly across the table. He lips quirked in a semblance of a smile. "I'm sure you will want to go see your father and friends. Why don't you go look for them and I'll clean up here?"

I rose and after giving her another hug, left her to her thoughts.

*****

When I got back outside I took a deep cleansing breath and proceeded to choke as I got a big whiff of musty swamp and decaying plants. Even though I could taste the smell on the back of my tongue I still felt immensely better than I did before seeing Retta.

With a lighter heart I looked around for my friends. Not seeing them

Opening the door to my old home I immediately smelled the homey aroma of eggs and flatbread cooking in the kitchen. Shandra's head poked around the corner.

"Kathrynn, I hope you don't mind. Georg said your farther was off in the woods and wouldn't be returning any time soon. He let us in and said Daeghun wouldn't mind if we made ourselves some breakfast."

The kitchen was just as I remembered it, unnaturally neat and tidy. It seemed Shandra followed my father's method of cleaning up as she cooked as even the work area was immaculately clean. Casavir sat at one of the chairs around the dinning table, hands wrapped around a hot mug of coffee. He smiled and gestured to a waiting cup at the space next to him.

As I sat down and took a long drink he asked, "Is everything well?"

I nodded. "She took it better than I thought she would. I'm glad you made me get it done. Though, that was most definitely not something I would want to again." I smiled warmly and added, "Thank you for coming with me."

With hands warm from his own cup he reached over and gently squeezed my fingers. "I'm just happy I could be of some small assistance."

"Breakfast is almost ready," Shandra said cheerfully.

"It smells great. I didn't know you could cook."

She shrugged. "I've lived alone most of my life. It's just something I picked up. It was either that or eat cold porridge every day. I can't make anything fancy, but I do pretty well at simple stuff."

I grinned at Casavir. "What do you say about letting her take all of Khelgar's turns at cooking?"

He chucked into his mug, obviously remembering Khelgar's 'famous' family recipes.

"You know, somehow I didn't expect to find _this_ in your room." Bishop's mocking voice interrupted as he came down the hall.

Horrified I looked up, anxious to see what he had found. In his large hands he held a small stuffed doll. Its dress was a faded beige but I knew that once it had been a bright sunny yellow. The face was still cheery even though its cheeks were smeared with the dirt and grim that came with being a much loved toy.

Fighting away a blush I glared at him. "Daeghun made that for me after my mother died, Bishop. Put it back." I paused, a thought striking me. "And just what were you doing in my room in the first place?!"

Ignoring my question, he looked at the doll with interest. "I can't imagine you ever having an attachment to a toy."

Ever on edge around the ranger, Casavir's eyes narrowed angrily. "All of us here were children once, even you, even Lady Kathrynn."

"Ah now paladin, that's the problem. You see her as a child that needs to be taken care of. Unlike you, I can't see our leader here as ever being anything other that a _woman_."

Before Casavir could retort, Shandra slammed a pan of eggs down on the table. "Enough of that you two. If you can't be civil, then take it outside." At Casavir's and Bishop's following silence, she smiled wryly, knowing the peace wouldn't last long. "Good. Now lets all eat breakfast together like _normal_ people for once, shall we?"

I grinned to myself. "Set me out a plate Shandra, I'm going to wash up really fast. You all start without me; I'll back in a minute."

Walking outside to wash my hands, I heard Shandra voice fading away as I neared in the creek out back. "Here you go Casavir. With extra mushrooms like you asked."

_Mushrooms? Where did they get mushrooms? Daeghun doesn't keep fresh vegetables in the house when he goes out into the woods._

I mentally shrugged. Someone probably did some foraging while I was at Retta's. Kneeling by the small stream the shock of the freezing water wiped out any remaining concerns about the fungus. Quickly as possible I rinsed my hands in the water and headed back into the house.

Waiting for me at the table was a huge steaming pile of eggs. In front of Casavir was a pile that looked to be at one point twice as high but was now rapidly disappearing. Taking my seat, Shandra looked at me apologetically. "I hope you don't mind mushrooms. Casavir wanted a lot and Bishop didn't want any so I tried to divide it in half. I think your part has a few mixed in."

I smiled happily at her as I took up my fork. "That's perfectly fine with me. Personally I take them or leave them. This smells really good though." I dug in enthusiastically. After a couple of bites though, my fork froze halfway to my face. Setting it back down on the plate, I chewed carefully on the rubbery bit of mushroom in my mouth. With a dawning sense of realization, I rolled it over my tongue, the earthy, slightly rancid taste all to familiar. I swallowed and looked helplessly at the pile of eggs that had all but disappeared from Casavir's plate. The amount that remained was liberally speckled with small dark brown mushroom bits. I risked a look at Shandra's plate. Luckily it appeared she wasn't a fan of mushrooms as her eggs were mostly golden yellow.

I cleared my throat carefully. "Shandra," I asked neutrally, "where did you find these mushrooms?"

"They were dried in the pantry. Bishop said they would be fine in the eggs. I hope you don't mind?"

"No, no," I said weakly. "That's fine. Excuse me for a moment, I forgot about something. May I speak with you for a moment, _Bishop_?"

"I'm not stopping you."

_I'm going to hit him. I swear I'm going to wipe that pleased look off of his face._

"Privately," I growled out from behind clenched teeth.

"But you haven't finished breakfast," Shandra protested.

"I'll finish it when I come back," I lied.

I turned to look at the smug man sitting in the corner with his feet propped up on a nearby trunk. Walking past him down the hall I led the way to my old room. As soon as he entered I shut the door behind us.

"Well now, didn't you just tell me to stay out of here?" Not waiting for me to answer, his mouth twisted in what could almost be called a smile. "By the way, your father keeps an interesting larder."

"It doesn't matter what kind of pantry he keeps. You drugged a paladin!" I snarled at him.

He raised an eyebrow coolly. "No. The farmgirl found them, asked if she could use them, and I said they were edible. You didn't see me shoving that mountain of eggs down his throat now did you?"

"But… You… Arrrgghhh!!" Angry, but unable to find argument with his logic I stomped my feet in frustration, muttering curses under my breath.

"Casavir? Are you ok?"

Shandra's worried voice stopped my tantrum cold. With a pointed glare I hurried out of the room and back to the kitchen only to see the normally brave stoic paladin staring at the dinning table with a concerned look on his face.

"I'm sorry Lady Shandra, but I'm afraid the eggs did not seem to agree with me." Casavir's sun bronzed face went pale and he stood in a hurry. Just as quickly he sat back down, looking slightly green around the edges. Swallowing audibly, he smiled weakly at her before resuming his intent staring at the table.

"Can I get you anything? Some flat bread, some water? Anything?" Shandra's voice was concerned and slightly confused. "I don't understand why no one else here is sick."

"Maybe it was the mushrooms," Bishop said, as casually as could be.

"You said they were alright to eat!"

"They were, but perhaps not if you feed him a whole field of them."

"He said he liked mushrooms," she mumbled, blushing.

I watched the interplay with a personal sense of understanding. I knew the horrible nausea he had to be going through, and I also knew it was only going to get worse. Some bread would help him, but only if he could get it down.

Silently I put some of the left over flatbread on a plate and set it where he would reach it, but out of his line of vision. With as nauseas as he was, I knew food was the last thing he would want to see.

His grip tightened on the table.

"The table is moving. Why is the table moving?"

"Umm… Casavir, the table's not moving."

He looked up at Shandra and quickly shut his eyes. "Shandra, can you please stop swaying like that? It's most disturbing."

Shandra looked confused. "I'm not moving either."

_And so it begins._

I took a step and a loose floorboard creaked under my weight. His head swung to me.

His mouth dropped open as he stared at a place somewhere over my shoulder. "Lady Kathrynn," he whispered loudly. "Don't move. There's a fairy behind you." He reached out a hand as if to touch something. His voice dropped to a reverent murmur. "She's so pretty."

"There's no fairy," I told him gently.

"But there is! Look, she's right behind you, can't you see her?"

Humoring him, I turned and looked over my shoulder. "Oh yeah, there she is. She's very pretty."

Casavir scowled. "You don't see her, I can tell by your voice." He stood abruptly. "I'll show you. All I have to do is catch her." His hand shot out quickly as if trying to snatch something in the air. "Quick! She's flying away!"

Without further warning the plate clad paladin ran from the house chasing after imaginary fairies. I sat down in his vacated chair with a sigh and at Shandra's panicked look, motioned her to go after him. Being the concerned leader that I was, I tried to school my face into a proper worried frown.

No luck.

My lips started to spasm uncontrollably. When I heard Bishop's dry voice though, I lost control.

"Well, a paladin rampaging through the swamp after imaginary fairies is something these yokels haven't seen before."

Choking on my laughter I tried to glare at him. I failed miserably when I noticed his own mouth was having a hard time not curling into a grin.

He leaned back casually against the wall still fighting a smile. "I wonder if you'll give him one of the cure poison potions you carry around with you."

I grinned wickedly at him. "But where's the fun in _that_, ranger? Besides, maybe it will loosen him up a tad."


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 27

"I am so, so sorry."

Casavir smiled gently at Shandra. "I know. You have told me many times. And as I have said each time, it wasn't your fault."

"I know, but I still feel terrible! The way you were chasing those fairies, then the way you started stripping down in the middle of the village because you thought that if you could soak up enough light you would turn into a sun yourself. And then you got so sick… By the gods, it must have been horrible for you…"

From my position behind them I could see his neck turning brighter and brighter red with each word that passed her lips. Feeling slightly guilty from my own part in the fiasco, I decided it was time to rescue him. Quickening my pace I brushed past Shandra. "Not helping," I muttered to her out of the corner of my mouth as I went by.

"What? Oh." Shandra's own face went red. "I.. ah… I have a rock in my boot. You guys go on; I'll catch up in a minute."

We continued down the road as she bent down to remove the imaginary pebble. I glanced cautiously at Casavir. He hadn't said a single word to either Bishop or I since we had dragged him half naked from the town center. I still wasn't sure how he had managed to get his armor off by himself and so quickly.

_So much for loosening him up. If anything, he is more uptight than before._

The silence between us stretched uncomfortably. Several times I opened my mouth to say something, just to shut it again. After a mile or so of walking, it was he who broke the silence.

"Kathrynn, I have to know. Did you have anything to do with that… fiasco?"

_Uh oh. He didn't call me Lady, he must be really angry. Luckily I can actually say I did not. Sort of…_

"Kathrynn?" Casavir's voice had gotten even more terse.

"No. I honestly can say I was not aware of what they were before I had one myself. At that point, it was to late for you."

"And you didn't know how to cure it?"

_Crap_

"I don't know any way to _cure_ it," I said carefully.

_Technically I don't. You don't cure poison, you neutralize it._

"Good. I was worried that _his_ influence had started to impact your judgment. It is good to see it hasn't. Had we been attacked, I would have been unable to aid you. His malicious prank could very well have cost many lives."

"I don't think he meant it as a prank. In fact, I see it as more of a misunderstanding. He was only asked if they could be used, and he said that they were edible, which they are. You know how Bishop is. You have to ask the right questions with him."

"How can you defend that man? What could he have possible done to gain your trust and support? He is a liar and a threat to our very mission."

"I'm not defending him. I'm simply pointing out the realities of the situation. And yeah, he is a threat, but if it's one we are aware of, what's the problem? What do you want me to do, not have him along? He brings other skills to the table just as we all do. And just like all of us, he has his own set of quirks we have to deal with."

"Quirks? You call his murderous tendencies quirks??"

"Well, personally I think calling them _murderous_ is stretching things a bit. He hasn't killed any of us."

Casavir looked at me as if I were sadly naive. "Yet," he muttered softly.

He walked on in silence leaving me to mull over his final word. Shandra, seeing that our conversation was over, hurried to catch up to him leaving me as rear guard for once. Bishop, as usual had disappeared into the trees lining the narrow road back to Neverwinter as soon as we had left Fort Locke. I was alone for once, but as it been recently, it wasn't for long. Bishop came out for the trees to fall in step beside me.

"It's a pity I didn't get a chance to meet your father," he said casually.

I glanced at him warily. "Why is that?"

"To tell him what a good girl you are of course."

"Liar."

"Perhaps I wanted to meet the man who keeps such an interesting pantry. From what I'd heard of him, I expected him to be less like Duncan. But I guess that all of you Furlongs are cut from the same cloth."

I scowled. "Oh, give it up Bishop. Daeghun couldn't be more different from Duncan. He has the mushrooms to focus his reverie when he needs to get to the heart of a matter. They don't affect elves like they do humans, so don't insinuate that he is some drug addled green fairy chaser."

He shrugged. "You seem to be rather familiar with them yourself and you're no pointy eared elf."

"I was a teenager once, ranger. I did my fair share of experimenting." Recalling some of more unforgettable moments I chuckled softly to my self. Glancing sideways at him, I could tell he was curious but would never ask.

Purposefully letting my voice get dreamy I told him one of my more private memories. "When Daeghun was gone on one of his trips, I would go to a secret spot I had. There were very few fresh water ponds in the swamp, but there was one I knew off that everyone else didn't. There was a cold clear pond that was surrounded by trees. In the summertime I would go there and take a few of the mushrooms. While I waited for them to work, I would strip off all of my clothing and swim naked for a while. When I could start to feel them, I would lay on this rock that was the perfect size for me and let the sun that dappled through the trees dry and warm me."

I paused and risked a glance over at him. His eyes were very studiously avoiding looking in my direction as he waited without barbed comment for once, for me to finish.

"If you don't fight the affects they can enhance so many things, daydreams, even your sense of touch." I brushed against him casually at that word and felt him give the barest of shivers. I decided to play it up some more. Walking closer to him I pitched my voice to a throaty murmur. "I would lay there and let the cool summer breeze flow over my wet, naked skin like a gentle caress. My imagination would run away, going down all sorts of roads. I couldn't have been more than seventeen at the time and just recently started seeing males as far more _interesting_ than I thought them before. Sometimes I would think about some of the stories I had heard from the other girls and…" I broke off with a soft laugh. "Well, never mind that. I've said more than I should have. Let me just say, yes I am familiar with them and what they can do to a person."

Purposefully I walked away from him, leaving him breathing decidedly faster than usual. It took all my control not to skip the rest of the way back to Neverwinter.


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 28

We had barely been back in the city for twenty minutes before Brelaina's toadies cornered me with an urgent summons.

_Its times like this that make me think I should have joined the thieves guild. After all, I am a thief. All of these summons and errands are really starting to piss me off._

Having made no effort to hide my annoyance I went with them, making pointed comments about being travel weary (which I wasn't) and wishing I had had a moment to remove some of the dust from the road before meeting my _superior_ (Ha!) officer.

As pointedly as I made my displeasure known, they just as pointedly ignored it. As soon as we reached Captain Brelaina's office they went back to their other duties with undignified haste, most likely glad to be relieved of their bitching burden.

I pushed open the door and saw her speaking to an older man with a look of confusion clear on her face.

"Forgive me, Master Aldanon, I'm afraid I do not understand."

_Aldanon, no wonder she looks so confused. Talking to him is like talking with a drunken Grobnar._

"Very well, let us set aside the broader metaphor of the stone, and narrow our attention to the fact that it has been cleft in two which, while not a fact, is a smaller metaphor than the first. You see, at first glance, the two halves both appear as separate stones, but they were both once _one_ stone - yet not. Do you follow?"

_She looks as though she follows as much as a deaf man stumbeling through a pitch black swamp._

Brelaina finally noticed me and looked up in relief.

"Ah, Kathrynn. Welcome. I was just speaking with Master Aldanon concerning one of the prisoners you recovered from Garius... a woman, but not of Neverwinter or Luskan - or even perhaps this plane of existence. The prisoner has asked for you personally. I was hoping you might be able to help us out concerning her identity - or her intentions. Aldanon has a theory, but I'm afraid..."

_I'm afraid as well when Aldanon speaks._

Aldanon cocked his head as though trying to think of an explanation that we would understand. "If you both would simply _listen_- the comparison to a rock, a big rock, is a simple one, almost perfect. This prisoner you have... it seems that she is of the same stone as the githyanki, but yet she is not. You see, both were once one people, at one time, even though time is a very difficult thing to measure depending on the Plane, and that's not counting time in the Astral Plane or on..."

"Forgive me, Aldanon, is this prisoner a threat or not?" Brelaina asked impatiently.

The old man shrugged. "Oh, I don't know that. I _do_ know that the githzerai and the githyanki have been in a state of war for millennia. It is common knowledge.

Brelaina frowned. "Of course. An oversight on my part."

Oblivious to her sarcasm, he continued. "So I should think if your young lieutenant here is hunted by the githyanki, then the githzerai, and this githzerai prisoner, would be allies, by default." He paused before adding thoughtfully, "But I could be mistaken. I suppose we could see if she tries to kill any of us, but that test has numerous procedural flaws in its execution... if you will pardon the semantics."

"Procedural flaws? Oh, you mean like my dead corpse," I muttered.

"She seemed reasonable enough when we spoke together in Crossroad Keep, but there was a foot of stone between us, which is notoriously hard for a blade to cut through to kill someone on the other side. And speaking of Crossroad Keep, I am rather anxious to return there - so if you would both excuse me, I will set out there at once to see if we can dig anything out of the library there."

He gave me a friendly nod as he passed by me. "Good day - and I hope the prisoner doesn't attempt to kill you. She didn't seem the type, but you know how assassins are." As he went through the open door of the office he brushed past Sir Nevalle who was just entering the room.

Brelaina and I just looked at each other for a few moments, both wearing identical expressions. It was the expression everyone wore after having had the _privilege_ of speaking with Aldanon at length. He was a very sweet and very intelligent old man, but conversing with him was like being lost in an ancient city, all twists and turns and alleys that led nowhere and no map in sight to guide you.

After giving each other a small understanding smile, she said dryly, "Despite the advice of Master Aldanon, I think it would be best if you simply spoke to the prisoner and let this matter sort itself out - without any more comparison to rocks."

After giving Nevalle an acknowledging nod, I approached the cell. Sitting in the center of the floor as if she was at peace in the world was a veiled green skin woman. She looked like the githyanki that had been hunting me, but at the same time, she looked different. Perhaps it was the serenity in the eyes that only held hateful malice in the others.

"I felt your presence before my eyes fell upon you Kalach-Cha."

_Ugh. Not that name again._

She rose to her feet and gestured for me to come closer. "Step forward, let me look upon you."

Her voice was as peaceful as her expression and unconsciously I found myself drifting closer to the bars.

"They said you asked for me by name."

"Your name... your name is not how I _know_ you."

I hesitated. Her emphasis on the word know struck a cord in me, tickling at a minor memory. Unfortunately I didn't have much time to get a firm hold on the thought before she continued.

"Know this name our enemies have draped upon you - this Kalach-Cha- its sound travels far, even reaching the ears of _my _people. At first, my people thought our enemies had erred, that they did not _know _that of which they speak. But here, now, as you stand in my presence, I see the truth."

"I did not think it possible - but the key by which you may _know_ yourself lies within you." She sounded slightly awed, just as Zeeaire did when she discovered the shard that resided uncomfortably close to my heart.

"You mean the shard of the silver sword in my chest."

She nodded. "I know much of the problems that beset your people and mine - the reason behind these attacks upon your heart and home. You will have no greater ally in this than I. In exchange for my aid, it is my will I be freed - so that I might travel with you and aid you against these enemies."

"Go free? I don't know about that."

Impossible as it was to see her mouth behind the veil; I still could tell her lips thinned in displeasure. "This cell is abhorrent to me. It is a shackle of stone encasing me... it causes memories of the ways of the illithids to surface in my mind. I have born this indignity because I knew that it would bring you to me - and a greater truth will be _known._"

Again, her emphasis made a niggling memory arise just out of reach. I shook it off. It would come to me or it wouldn't, but I didn't think it was something important that I had to deal with now.

"So in exchange for what you know, you only ask to travel with me." I shrugged. "Fair enough. But I would have you _know_ that traveling with me isn't the safest or easiest thing in this world. We move a lot and all of it by foot. And let us not even go into the hordes of people who seem to have made it their sole mission in life to hunt me down and kill me."

She nodded once in understanding. "I seek to _know_ this plane, this world that I am to help you save - and speak honestly to it, so that it might hear what strikes at its heart. And that means that I must see your lands, what you would spill blood for... and what you have spilled blood for."

Sir Nevalle finally decided to speak. "Then I know of just the place where you can see what we fight for. Make your way back to Crossroad Keep, as soon as you are able."

I glanced at him. "We're to head back there? Why? I had thought that there were enough Greycloaks there to maintain control over it."

I could see the muscle at his jaw clench in annoyance. "We do maintain control. However Lord Nasher has specifically asked me to make sure you return there as soon as possible." He raised a hand to ward off any more questions. Finally I shrugged and nodded.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 29

A surly ranger, a stoic paladin, a childlike gnome, a sorceress with anger issues, a dry wizard, a barrel of a dwarf, a tiefling with very sticky fingers, a farm girl turned fighter, a quietly marching githzerai, a silent druid, a wolf, a badger, a cat and a ferret. Oh yeah, and me. A thief with a blistering headache.

"You see, it's impossible to truly know the Wendersnaven because by their very nature, they are unknowable. If you were to know them, then they would be knowable, and no longer themselves. I think…"

"You ignorant girl, if you could get your ego through the library door, then you would see there is more to magic than just feeling it. You must understand its intricacies to truly be able to appreciate it."

"I appreciate it just fine wizard. Especially when I light know-it-all elves like you on fire!"

"Rumblebelly!"

"Goatgirl!"

"Fat belly little knee high!"

"Tail for brains!"

"Yeah, well your breath is worse than Sand's Stinking Cloud"

"Well yur… amm.."

I rubbed the furrowed flesh between my eyebrows, trying to ease the building tension that rested there. I wasn't sure about how much more of the bickering I could take before I lost my mind. There was a reason I never traveled with everyone at one, and the throbbing behind my eyes was it.

"So tell me, did you agree to go back to that crumbled old keep right away like a good little boot licker, do did you at least put up some resistance?"

"Bishop, when she became a squire and swore fealty to Neverwinter, she agreed to serve the city and her liege lord with loyalty and honor. Something I'm sure you don't understand."

"I thought we already talked about you answering for her, paladin. Or is it now that she's serving Nasher like a good little lapdog, you think she's above talking to someone who makes her think for herself?"

_That's it. My head is going to explode if I don't do something and soon._

Swinging my pack around so I could rummage through it while continuing to walk, I pulled out a rolled up piece of paper. I was never so glad as I was right at that moment that I had Sand teach me how to at least read the runes inscribed on some less complex scrolls.

After giving it a cursory glance to make sure I wasn't about to accidentally incinerate us all, I quickly and quietly intoned the words scribed in the parchment. Immediately blessed silence fell. I could no longer even hear the jangling and clanking of our armor as we walked. I glanced back to see everyone's mouth moving angrily but there was no sound coming out. Satisfied, I smiled sweetly at everyone and felt some of the tension between my eyes ease.

I only was able to take a few steps in my new found peace before I felt something hard bounce off the back of my head. Whirling around, I saw Qara's hand going hastily behind her back and a pinecone lying innocently in the middle of the road. After giving her a soundless, but meaningful gesture, I continued leading the way to the keep.

*****

"My, what lovely places Nasher sends us to."

"Cheer up Sand, it may look like a moldering pile of old rocks, but buried under some of the bigger ones is an extensive library. Perhaps if we have time, you and Aldanon can fight over some of the rarer tomes."

His expression immediately brightened and with a quickened step, he hurried toward the inner courtyard.

The rest of us looked around the remains of the burnt out farm houses. Most were charred ruins but a few of the least damaged ones bore signs of recent repair. The keep itself however was as derelict as I remembered it. If anything it looked even worse under the clear light of day. The curtain walls had holes in them that a complete orc tribe could run through and there were entire sections of the keep that were nothing more than a pile of rubble.

Hearing the sounds of hammers and shouting men we walked into the courtyard looking around in surprise. On top of the hill, near the massive charred remains of the keep doors stood three people. Nevalle was there along with a woman and a short spindly man. They appeared to be going over some papers on a table someone had set up there.

"Are they actually thinking about fixing this dump?" Qara asked, looking around at the bustle distastefully.

"Looks like." I gave a short laugh. "I feel sorry for the poor sap they roped into rebuilding this place."

"I don't know actually," Casavir said thoughtfully. "If they could fix the structural problems of the keep itself and fortify the walls, this place is ideal. It's easily defendable and attack can only come from the front."

"Or the tunnel," I reminded him.

"Yes, the tunnel would be a weak point, however even if it were used, a large force could not come through there."

"Alright, so you have a good point. However, the amount of work required to get it even _habitable_ is insane. Like I said, I'm just glad I'm not the sap who has to do it."

Casavir nodded but continued to look around with interest. I could practically see his mind spinning with possibility.

"Lady Kathrynn," Sir Nevalle called to me from his position on top of the hill. "Please come join us, I wish to speak with you."

"Why don't you all take a look around, see if there was anything interesting that we missed last time we were here. I'll be right back."

I crested the hill to stand in front of Nevalle. "Alright. I'm here. I dragged everyone with me as you asked, and let me just say, you owe me for that. I haven't had a headache this big since Lorne slammed me into the wall during the trial."

He smiled slightly. "Then I have good news for you. Lord Nasher wishes for me to extend to you his deepest gratitude. Because of your actions, we have cause to make sure the Luskan threat is removed from Neverwinter. You have proved yourself time and time again. Although you can be a bit… rough… around the edges, we feel as though you have great potential. With the greatest pleasure, I have been asked to bestow upon you the rank of Knight Captain. All you see around you, this land, these people, are now under your protection. We have the greatest wish to see them prosper and have faith that you will rule them well."

For several minutes I stood gaping at him, my mouth working silently like a fish.

"Are you not pleased?"

I couldn't help it. I laughed. "Pleased? You're seriously asking me if I'm pleased? Let me think about this. You give me the title of Knight Captain, thereby thrusting me into the ranks of nobility so that Nasher can now demand tribute, which will happen since we all know the city coffers still lay uncomfortably empty since the war with Luskan. It also throws me into your military, so that he can demand aid and solders at any given moment." When Nevalle looked as though he was about to interrupt me, I ignored him and continued my angry diatribe. "But wait, that's not all! You give me this land, this keep, these people. You say they're mine to protect in hopes of making me feel a responsibility and fix this dump up in preparation of the coming battle. A battle I might add, that I am most likely to die in. And after your precious new _Knight Captain_ shucks off this mortal coil, you have a shiny new keep holding a prime location along the high road to do with as you wish. And to think, all it cost Nasher was a title. So ask me again if I'm _pleased_ Nevalle, ask me again."

His mouth tightened to a thin line. Grabbing my arm in a painful grip he hauled me around a corner and out of site of the others. Shaking me with every word he hissed from behind clenched teeth, I watched as he tried to maintain a hold on his composure. "You will fulfill the role you have been given and you will fix this keep up. You will raise an army and you will fight the King of Shadows."

I slapped his hand off my arm and glared at him. "I was planning on fighting the King anyways so why all this?"

"You're a cowardly, honorless thief," he growled. "We have no guarantee that you won't run from this fight. The githzerai told us about the shard you carry in your chest and what it means. You _must_ be the one to lead this fight."

_Oh. Now he's gone and pissed me off._

"Cowardly and honorless?? I have jumped through more hoops for you than any person should ever have to. Every where I turn, there's another one waiting for me. What in the hells do I have to do for you people?! So I'm a thief, so what? It's not like I've had a chance to do any thieving, considering there is constantly at least three groups of people who want my head! And in case you haven't noticed, my thieving skills are what have allowed us to get where we are with the minimal amount of bloodshed. On your part anyways. You and Nasher have stayed safe behind the high walls of your castle while my friends and I have shed our own blood for this."

"You insolent girl. You have no idea of the diplomacy required…"

"Diplomacy?" Raising my hand I treated him to the same gesture that I had given Qara earlier. "How's this for diplomacy?" Pretty sure he got my meaning, I started to walk off. Before I got more than a few steps, his next quiet words stopped me.

"If you refuse this, we will lock your companions in prison. It's only you we need after all."

I turned to look at him. "You've seen my friends. Do you honestly think a prison cell would hold them? Qara alone would torch the place."

Nevalle's eyes were cold. "Then until you do what is needed, we shall execute them publicly one by one."

That stopped me in my tracks. "On what grounds?"

"Treason. Do you know what the method of execution is for treason done during wartime?"

I stared at him. "But they haven't done anything," I whispered.

"Perhaps not, but by defying Lord Nasher's orders, you have."

"And here I thought that Luskan style justice was solely the domain of Luskan."

"Don't you dare compare this to Luskan! What we do is for the good of the realm, not for personal gain."

_I bet that's what Luskan tells themselves too._

I looked at Nevalle coolly for a while pondering my options, few that they were. Finally I came to a decision, the only decision really. Giving him an extremely exaggerated but well executed courtly bow I said formally, "Very well. I shall graciously accept the _honor_ you have bestowed upon me, _Sir_ Nevalle. This humble thief only hopes she can live up to the fine example of knighthood you yourself have demonstrated for her."

His eyes narrowed. "Careful now, _Lady_ Furlong, we will be watching you."

_You mean Sand will be watching me you pompous ass. But it's not as if I would tell you that I know he is your spy. You would just send another in his place. Besides, he and I have mutual respect for each other, something you would never understand._

Hiding my thoughts so they didn't show on my face, I nodded. "So am I to have help rebuilding this place, or are you expecting me to have suddenly have knowledge in carpentry and stone work?"

"You shall have help. Master Veedle is a master architect. You will tell him what area you wish to complete and he will see that it gets done."

"Well that's good to know. I mean with the whole shard business, raising an army, and fighting an undead king of shadows, I really wasn't sure where I would find the time to fix this place up myself. What about running it? I'm a Harborman, not someone who has a lot of experience running a keep."

"Kana will be your officer. She will instruct you on what needs to be done and what matters need you attention and what matters can be seen to by other people." He raised his hand to hold off my next question. "And we will be leaving a regiment of Greycloaks here to help hold the keep, so you won't have to build up your garrison either."

"Well, well, well. You really thought of everything didn't you? Have all the help that the uncouth swamp dweller could possible need on hand so she won't make a fool of you."

"We knew that you would agreeable to the honor bestowed upon you."

"Agreeable eh?" I snorted. "Well, you certainly made sure of that. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go tell my friends that we will be staying for a while."

"Before you go, do you have any orders on what you wish Master Veedle to construct first?"

"Yeah," I called back without looking over my shoulder. "A tavern."


	30. Chapter 30

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 30

I walked back down the hill feeling strangely cold inside. I never had any intention of not fighting this battle, but for them to force my hand like this made me chafe. To threaten me was one thing; I could just laugh that off. But to threaten my friends? That just made me angry. As much as they got on my nerves at times, they still were my friends, my family almost. A family that had Shandra milling around at the bottom of the hilling waiting for me. Wonderful.

I tried relaxing the murderous expression on my face so she wouldn't ask questions I really didn't want to answer right now. It didn't work.

"You look… pale, are you alright?" Shandra asked.

"I'm fine," I replied tightly.

"Oh." She waited for me to explain. When it was clear there would be no further answer forthcoming, she cleared her throat. "Well, Sand went off in search of the library, Qara disappeared somewhere, and I have no idea where Bishop ran off to. Casavir went with Elanee to look at the farm lands. I think the gith went with them."

"She's not a githyanki, she's a githzerai. Same rock, different half." I muttered. "And her name is Zhjaeve."

"Sorry. It's just that she looks a lot like the others that burned down my house and barn. Anyways, what's the plan? Where are we going next?"

_And that's why I like Shandra. She doesn't complain and she tends to just go with the flow._

"The plan is to make camp. We'll be staying here for some time. Can you let the others know?"

"Sure, but where will you be?"

I really wished she would stop asking questions. Couldn't she see I just needed to get out of there for a little while? I came up with something I knew she wouldn't be interested in. "I'm not sure yet. I'm probably going to go somewhere to practice with my bow." That was true enough. I could disappear into the woods for some target practice. There was nothing like the cool focus required of hitting a tiny target at forty paces to work off a little steam.

"But you hardly ever use a bow…"

"All the more reason I need to practice."

I headed toward the portcullis and stopped. Coming back to where Shandra was still standing, I swung off my pack. After removing my quiver and an old leather bracer, I tossed the bag to her.

"What's this for?"

"It's a bit bulky to take with me just for some practice. Besides, I wouldn't want anyone to think I wasn't coming back." I said with a humorless smile.

"What do you mean by that?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. Nothing at all," I muttered as I walked back towards the gate of temporary freedom. The very moment I passed out from under the archway I felt the noose that was tightening ever so slowly around me loosen. I wanted to run, run from the keep, run from growing arm of Nasher, run from the responsibility that had been thrust on me that I had never wanted or asked for.

I wanted to run away and forget about all of this forever… but I couldn't.

_Damn them._

My body was tense with the need spend some of the pent up anger but I still managed to walk calmly down the road, past the farmhouses, and out the gate. It wasn't until I made it out of sight of the keep that I let loose. My pace quickened to a jog and finally to a sprint. I raced down the road and turned off into a field. Jumping over the low stone walls and darting past grazing sheep I made my way to the woods.

Legs burning and my breath coming in short pants I stopped short of entering the forest. Remembering the last time I made a mad dash into the woods and how many times I landed on my backside from it, I continued into the welcoming dimness at a more sedate pace.

It wasn't to long till I found a perfect glade to practice in. Part of me wanted to go deeper into the trees, but I also didn't want to have to spend the night in there, lost like last time. I swung the bow off my back looked around for a good target. Spying a prominent knot in a tree across the way, I set the bow against a nearby tree and laced up the old and worn leather bracer. The tight feel of the leather around my wrist and forearm was comforting, bringing tactile memories of my childhood with each tightening of the laces.

Taking several deep breaths to calm my heart and my head, I locked my gaze on the knot about thirty paces away. With an arrow notched I raised the short bow into position, drawing it back to my chin. Letting the arrow fly, I watched its path. To high and to much to the left. Notching another I focused harder. I let the target expand in my vision until nothing existed except for that darkened piece of wood. This time my aim was better, but still off. I glanced at the sky, looking though the tree canopy for the sun.

I still had plenty of time to practice before nightfall, and I intended to make good use of it.

*****

I couldn't have been out there more than an hour. Arrow after arrow had buried themselves in the in the trunk, some closer to the mark than others. I raised the bow again, letting the stiff feathers of the fletching caress my chin. "You've been hiding there for twenty minutes. If you have something to say, just say it," I said calmly as I released the string. I noticed with pleasure that the arrow's spine flexed just enough to correct its path and it sunk into the center of the knot with a thunk.

"You're not very good with that bow."

I said nothing and notched another one. Starting to raise it once more, I spun around before releasing. The arrow flew true to bury itself in the dirt not six inches from his foot. I cocked an eyebrow.

Pulling the shaft out of the ground he held it out to me. "Like I said, not very good. _I_ wouldn't have missed."

"Are you here for a reason, or just to annoy me?" I snapped, yanking the arrow out of his hand.

"The farmgirl said we would be camping at the keep for a while. Is this your decision, or Nevalle's?"

"Mine," I said shortly as I fired another arrow.

"That's interesting, because a little birdie told me the two of you were having a rather intimate conversation, right before you stormed out. I wonder what Nasher's little scepter polisher could have said to make you so mad? Perhaps he's giving more orders you don't agree with. And yet… you seem to follow them like a beaten dog."

My shot went high and sailed over my target to crash through the underbrush beyond.

"You think you're free, but you follow orders and come back for more. At first it doesn't seem that bad, but then you're asked to do more and more that you don't like. Eventually they just stop asking, they try to take away your options and yet you still follow. That's when you're no better than a beaten dog."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience Bishop. Tell me, have _you_ been a dog before?" I asked coldly.

He was quiet for a time before answering dispassionately. "I was a soldier for Luskan once. They tried to beat me down, make me into one of their mindless elite. I didn't let them."

"That doesn't surprise me," I muttered dryly as I fired another arrow. This one at least hit the tree I was aiming for.

I could sense he smiled his snakelike smile. "It shouldn't. But it does surprise me that you're following someone else's orders." I could hear him coming up behind me as he spoke, but I refused to turn. "What could he possibly offer you to make you do what he wants?" he asked lowly, close enough that his breath stirred the hair on back of my head.

Unnerved, my next shot didn't land anywhere near my target. I gave up and rested the point of my bow on my foot. "The keep, and a noble title. What more would a girl from the swamps possibly want?" I asked lightly.

"Don't take me for a fool. Those that do tend not to live very long. If I thought that's what you wanted, I wouldn't be around still, debt or no."

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think."

"I doubt that," he snorted.

"You really piss me off, you know that?" When he just looked at me I sighed. "The keep is mine and a title to go with it. I'm going to get it ready for battle and it will be our base of operations until this whole thing is done with."

"You're going to hide behind your stone walls and wait for him to come get you. Sounds like a death wish to me."

"Better to die that way than on your knees."

"There is no good death."

I shook my head. "Certain deaths are more palatable than others."

Disgusted, he walked away into the forest, leaving me alone with just my thoughts.

*****

_Bishop made his way back to the ruined keep silently. The lengthening shadows on dusk kept him out of sight as he searched for Nevalle. There was more going on than what Kathrynn had said. He could tell by the darkness in her eyes. She was furious, and he was going to find out why. Lack of information was not how he stayed alive all these years._

_It wasn't long before he heard Nevalle's voice around a corner. Bishop lowered himself to a crouch and glanced around the wall. The blond man was speaking to a large mirror but instead of the knight's reflection, Nasher's image showed back._

"_My lord. I spoke with the squire as you wished me to. As you suspected, she proved… resistant to her promotion and her new duties. She made it clear she felt she was being used. It was difficult to get her to agree to carry out your wishes."_

"_I have faith in your abilities Nevalle. I take it you made her see the realities of the situation?"_

"_Yes my lord, but I'm afraid my tactics may have made her resentful. She only agreed after I threatened charges of treason."_

"_You know as well as I that we need her to fight this war. Bringing her up on charges of treason would serve us no purpose. Not only that, but after what we have done to get her away from Luskan's justice, we would lose credibility if we charged her with something that serious."_

"_I knew you would feel that way. I didn't threaten to charge her personally. She doesn't seem to be the type to do things just to save herself anyways. I promised her that if she did not do as you wished in this matter, it would be her companions that paid the price."_

"_Very clever Nevalle. I commend you on your quick thinking. Are you now assured she will comply?"_

"_She will make all outward appearances to do so, but we will have to keep a closer eye on her to make sure she does what is necessary. Also, I no longer think our plant is completely ours, she may have turned him. She does seem to inspire an abnormal amount of loyalty in her men."_

"_He knows the price of failure. Perhaps you should remind him of it."_

"_Yes my lord."_

"_Contact me again when you have news Nevalle."_

_Nevalle nodded even as Nasher's image cleared from the mirror. Waving a hand over the silvered glass, the knight's reflection showed back normally. Bishop eased out of his position and crept out of the room._

_Interesting, Bishop thought as he made his way past the crumbed areas of the keep. Very interesting._


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 31

I came back to the keep shortly after Bishop left. I just couldn't concentrate on my shots anymore. I just kept wondering if there was a way I could get out of having to follow Nasher and Nevalle's orders. Unfortunately, everything I though of just ended up with my seeing the lifeless eyes of my friends. Bishop would escape and survive, as would Qara and Sand. The others though… They would go complacently to their fates, with no attempt to save themselves. Neeshka might be able to get away, but somehow I didn't think she would leave the others there to die.

Knowing that Neverwinter wanted a place to chain me to wasn't what grated so badly. It was how they did it. I didn't like people patting me on the shoulder with one hand while preparing to eviscerate me with the other. It made me… cranky.

But I'll play their game for now and once it's over, we would see who the winner is.

*****

Everyone was gathered around the campsite they erected on the opposite side of the courtyard from the Nevalle's men. With the shells of the burnt out buildings between us, there was some measure of privacy in the large yard.

Casavir stood with a warm smile as soon as he saw my approach. "My deepest congratulations my lady. Sir Nevalle has informed us of the good news."

"So you're a knight now huh? No wonder you looked so pale earlier, you must have been shocked," Shandra said.

"This is the place they gave you? Who'd you piss off?" Qara looked around disdainfully. "I didn't think anything could be worse than having to stay at the filthy tavern, but it looks like I was wrong."

"If this place is offensive to your… delicate… sensibilities, I'm sure our new Knight-Captain would have no problem creating a place more akin to your nature for you. A room full of dung perhaps?"

I had to fight to keep from smiling. I loved Sand's silky smooth insults.

"So if you're a knight now, does this mean we have to swear felicity and stuff?" Neeshka asked.

Casavir's lips twitched slightly. "I believe the word you mean is fealty."

Bishop set down the whetstone he was using and the stood up. "Oh by all means, make your promises to lord and land. That way, when you don't jump when she says, she can call you a traitor."

Everyone was silent for a moment, giving him startled looks.

"Bishop, that's not funny," Neeshka said nervously, her eyes darting to me.

"You're right. Its not," I said, staring hard at him.

"Besides, she would never do that to me, we're friends!"

"Maybe you are, maybe your not. But friends have never stopped the nobility from punishing people who don't do what they wish. You know what they do to traitors demon girl?" Bishop approached Neeshka threateningly, his blade naked in his hand. Casavir moved to intercept him but surprisingly it was Sand who stopped him. "First, they drag you through the streets to the city square where they've set up a gallows. Then they string you up and give you a short drop, just far enough that your neck doesn't break. As soon as you pass out, they strip you naked and stretch you out on a table in front of the whole city."

"Stop it Bishop! You're scaring her," Shandra said angrily.

He smiled cruelly. "And I haven't even gotten to the best part. They make sure to wake you up for this next bit." He raised his hand and ran his knife slowly down Neeshka's belly while he spoke. "They cut you open, slowly. If you pass out, they throw water on you to get you up. Once they have your complete attention they pull out your entrails and hold them up where you can see them. And then, to the roar of a cheering crowd, they light them on fire let you watch them burn. Do you know what the smell of your own burning guts is like little girl?"

Neeshka was pale and unmoving, her breath coming quick and shallow. I could see her pulse fluttering wildly at her throat.

"Finally, they cut you into six pieces, arms, legs, torso, and head." With every word he tapped each part of her body with the blade. "Your parts are displayed in gibbets and on walls, all over the city as a warning to other would be traitors. Oh, and if they can't have you, they'll take anyone your stupid enough to care about."

"Enough," I snapped, glaring at him.

"Perhaps in Luskan, but that is not how things are done in Neverwinter," Casavir growled.

"You think so paladin? Why don't you ask the sharp ears how things are done in your precious Neverwinter."

Sand cleared his throat and spoke quietly. "I have studied both Luskan and Neverwinter law. The punishment for treason is exactly as he described so eloquently."

Shandra balked. "But that's got to be one of those outdated laws, they can't do that anymore, it's barbaric!"

"Lord Nasher seemed to be quite fond of it thirty years ago. All of you would be to young to remember, but it was a frequent occurrence during the war with Luskan."

I laid a hand on Neeshka's shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze. "That's not going to happen to you, to any of you. I promise," I said firmly. "Now, there's been enough talk. Why don't you guys go see if you can scrounge up anything for dinner?" I stared hard at Bishop even though my tone was soft. Everyone left muttering about things they had to do, and finally I was alone with the ranger.

"Somebody's been a busy, busy boy, skulking in the shadows."

He smiled wolfishly. "And here I thought you of all people could appreciate that."

"Tell me, did you listen in to my conversation with him, or did you get it from him afterwards?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you got it after you left me in the woods." I made a show of looking around, even glancing in what remained of a barrel near one of the buildings. "Should we be on the lookout for Nevalle's bloody body somewhere? Are his men going to be coming after us shortly?"

"What makes you think he's hurt?"

"Because what was said isn't something he'd announce all over the keep and if you can't get information through spying, your methods tend to leave large stains on the floor."

He caught my chin in his hand. "Oh, I can be very subtle if I need to," he murmured, rubbing the pad of his glove covered thumb over my bottom lip.

I pulled away and looked at him innocently. "Oh, you mean you seduced him? That's odd; I didn't think you liked his type."

His eyes glittered dangerously and his lip curled in a snarl. "Careful kitten," he growled softly, "or you might make me show you here and now just what it is I like."

That gave me pause. I was suddenly sorely tempted to keep goading him just to find out what he would do.

_Whoa now, reign in that libido girl! We're getting waaay off track. Focus!_

Someone cleared their throat behind me. I glance over to see Sand waiting rather anxiously for me. "What's up Sand?"

"Might I have a word with you?"

"Sure."

He looked pointedly at Bishop. "Perhaps we should have this conversation elsewhere."

I tried to loop my arm through his but he shook his head slightly and made sure to stand a fair distance away from me. Gesturing to me to walk with him I followed, looking around to see some of Nevalle's men trying to watch us covertly. They weren't very good at it.

"They're watching us," he murmured lowly while giving me a big fake smile. He pulled out a sheath of papers while we walked and unfurled them. I glanced over and saw they were just a listing of books. "Here is a listing of the book we have found in the keep library," he said loudly. "And here are some notes of which ones we should check that seem to pertain to our current situation," he continued while fumbling clumsily for a difference piece of paper. Staring down at them while we walked, suddenly he ran straight into me and dropped the papers in a big pile on the ground. "Oh dear."

He stooped down to pick them up and I followed suit. Kneeling with our heads close together we started to gather the papers. "I had a lovely chat with Nevalle just now," he whispered.

I held up the paper in my hand. "I think this is page two."

"He felt it necessary to remind me what would happen if I did not keep them updated to your plans at all times." He ruffled through the papers "Oh dear, I can not seem to locate page five, do you have it?"

"Here it is," I said, handing him a paper. "Don't worry," I whispered back. "Go ahead and keep them updated. I don't think that we will be doing anything that they would want to stop. Oh, and feel free to add anything you think would interest them. Make it up if you want." I grinned at him and stood up. "Well Sand, for an elf, you certainly are clumsy," I said loudly. "Maybe we should get you out of the library more often."

"Yes, if only I had your… grace my dear, my life would be complete. Tell me, did you ever get out that large gravy stain out of your tunic?" he retorted.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Just as I was saying. Such grace. Anyway, I just wanted to notify you that I shall be in the library should you need me. Thank you," he added looking at me pointedly, "for helping me pick these up."

"No problem, glad to help."

As I walked away I realized than Bishop had never told me how he found out what Nevalle said. I looked over to the camp and saw he was no longer at it. Looked like I would have to hunt him down. Before I could though, Sand called to me again.

"Oh Kathrynn, it nearly slipped my mind. Our new companion is waiting to speak with you as well. She wishes to tell you what you want to know about everything that's happening."

I sighed. It appeared I would have to leave Bishop for another time. Destiny waited for no man, or in my case, no woman. In fact, it seemed more and more that destiny wore a large pair of boots and was rather intent on planting one in my ass.


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 32

Within a few days, Veedle managed to set a few rooms in the keep to rights. It was amazing how much workers could do in a day when you have a bunch of bored mages with Bulls Strength and Bears Endurance memorized. Khelgar had even taken to eh… discussing how the stone work should be with the architect. It was rather amusing watching the stout dwarf and the tiny man bellow and bluster back and forth. Veedle tended to come out of those conversations with his hair looking even wilder than normal but willing to make the changes 'suggested'. It never paid to argue with a dwarf about stone masonry.

One of the rooms that he put back together was the war room and that was where we were sitting currently, all around a huge circular table. I looked around at everyone, noting with interest everyone's body language. Casavir, Elanee, and Zhjaeve sat straight backed and attentive, but that was to be expected. Sand watched disapprovingly as a bored Qara leaned an elbow on the table and continually flicked her fingers, making flames dance on their tips. Rocking back his chair, Bishop balanced it on its two rear legs as he watching me watching everyone else. Shandra was looking a little ill at ease at the formal room and the guards flanking the large double doors. Grobnar snuck a look over at Bishop and rocked back in his own chair, trying to mimic the ranger's 'Devils may care' attitude. It didn't work on him, but he did look adorable. Finally, and as normal, Neeshka and Khelgar were bickering quietly, well, quiet for them at least.

I cleared my throat and began. "As you know, I have spoken with Zhjaeve in great length about what is happening and what we need to do. There's a lot of information, but I'm going to give you the 'Volo's Travel Guide' version. Basically the King of Shadows wasn't always the evil pain in the ass that he is today. A looooong time ago, yes, before even you were born Sand, there was the ancient empire of Illefarn. The people of the nation felt they needed protection so they took one of their strongest and bravest and used a ritual to turn him into a great guardian for their people."

"So the King of Shadows was once a man," Sand mused aloud. "Interesting."

"Luckily, they had the foresight to create another ritual, one that would unmake him should the time come that he would no longer be needed. They said it was to give him rest after his service. Personally I think they created it as a safety measure. You know, in case he went berserk and started destroying everything in his path."

"Oh, you mean like now?" Qara asked.

I nodded. "Pretty much…"

A high pitched squeal interrupted me. I looked over just in time to see Grobnar lean too far back in the chair and tip it over backwards. I closed my eyes and sighed at the loud crash that followed.

His slightly dazed voice floated up from under the table. "Don't worry about me, I'm alright. Don't quite know how that happened."

As Shandra and Neeshka righted his chair and helped him back up, I bit my cheeks to keep from smiling.

"We good?" I asked Grobnar. When he nodded I continued. "Zhjaeve also told me that sometime after the guardian's corruption he decided to try and extend his reach. He managed to make it to the astral plane where he fought the Githyanki. They managed to drive him back, but not destroy him. What Zeeaire said before she died about a bigger foe was true. They were here for two reasons, one was to hunt down the King of Shadows and the second was to get back a sword that was lost to them."

"Which brings us to this." I pulled out the silk bundle that I always carried with me. Unrolling it on the table I lined up the silver shards within in some semblance of their original form. "As some of you know, these, along with the piece inside my chest, are pieces of a Githyanki silver sword. We are obviously missing pieces of it," I gestured idly to the large sections missing from the sword. "That glowing headed wizard we fought at the Moonstone Masks has-"

"Warlock, my dear."

Startled, I looked at Sand. "What?"

"He was a warlock. His powers are more akin to our resident pyro's than mine."

"Ah. Alright then, glad we have that straightened out. May I continue?"

Sand graciously gestured that I may.

"As I was saying, the _warlock," _I paused and glanced briefly at Sand, "that summoned the big smelly dogs at the Mask has some pieces also. We need to get them and any others we can find."

"Well, I know where one more is," Bishop drawled slowly. "Give me a knife and I'll get it for you." His eyes were leveled directly on my breasts.

I scowled. "Yes, we all know how temping it is for you to cut my heart out, but that's not going to happen."

"Bet ya Bishop would rather stick something in her than take something out," Neeshka muttered lowly. Luckily the ranger didn't seem to hear her comment, but Khelgar certainly did. His face was as red as mine had to be, but unlike me, he was snickering.

"Are we still talking about the shard?" Grobnar asked confusedly. "Because it doesn't sound like it. I think we are taking about something else, but I don't know what."

I gave everyone a quelling glance. "Yes, we are still talking about the shards. We don't need to worry about the one in me. Zhjaeve believes we can reforge the sword with what we have."

"What's the point of putting that old thing back together?" Qara asked. "I've seen your bags of holding, you have weapons in there you've never even used."

"Like you have any room to talk little miss pack rat. Anyways, we need to reform the sword because according to Gith lore, a silver sword is the only thing that can end him permanently. Basically sticking these hunks of metal in him will make him… mortal if you will. Without the sword, he can't be killed. This is what the Giths used to drive him back originally."

"So that's it?" Khelgar burred. "We melt that thing down into something new and kill him?"

Casavir fingered one of the pieces of the sword. "I doubt it will be that easy. If that was the case, someone could have destroyed him long before this."

"Exactly. It's not going to be that easy. There are the five rituals of purification that have to be completed to unmake him. As for reforging the sword… well, we don't know right now how to do that. Supposedly, it can't just be melted down and reformed, because that would be to simple. With the way my life has been going recently, I will probably have to go Thay and steal something from Szass Tam, or go to the Underdark and make some deal with a Matron."

"That's an awfully pessimistic way of looking at things," Shandra said.

I snorted. "Call it what you like. I call it realistic personally."

"So when do we leave?"

Thinking about how long it would take to get everything ready and packed versus how much more of the constant hammering and sawing that I could take here, I made a decision. "Tomorrow."

*****

We trudged along the road, although calling the endless brown ribbon that had more holes and boulders than smooth areas a road was extremely generous. I mentally sighed. I was getting really sick of walking everywhere. The last time I took off my boots, I had examined the bottoms of my feet. Not that they had ever been soft and delicate, but the fact that the ball and heel more closely resembled Bishop's hard leather armor than feet was annoying.

"I want a horse," I announced.

Casavir glanced at me, surprised by my sudden proclamation. "You wish for a horse?"

"Yes. I want a horse."

Khelgar shuddered slightly. "Why would ya want one of those things?"

"Doesn't it bother you that we walk everywhere? Just think of how much faster we could get around if we were on horseback."

"Those beasts may be fast, but don't compare to having two strong legs under ye. There's something unnatural about being that high up on a beast that would sooner toss ya than look at ya."

I slid him a glance from the corner of my eye. "Don't tell me that the rumor of dwarves being afraid of horses are true!"

The dwarf shook his head. "We Ironfists are afraid of nothing! I'd just rather keep me feet firmly on the ground."

I was silent for a minute.

"We could get you a pony."

The look he gave me was pure evil.

"Can you even ride, my lady?" Casavir asked.

"Sure… I think. I mean, I've never tried but I understand the theory. How hard can it be? Shandra, you're from a farm. It's not hard is it?"

She shrugged. "Don't look at me. I've never ridden one. I used to have some, but they were just old plow horses I used to pull my cart to market."

"What about you Cas? Isn't learning to ride in full plate while on the back of a huge white stallion part of paladin training?"

He smiled. "Actually it is. We have to practice to ride regally whilst rescuing maidens fair from the jaws of dragons."

I looked at him suspiciously. "Did you just make a joke?"

His smile widened but he remained silent.

I laughed and shook my head. The paladin made a joke. Will the wonders never cease?

I called out to Bishop. "Should I even bother asking if you can ride?"

A strange look past over his face. I knew he was sorting through all the innuendos that he could make of my question. Finally he shook his head as if deciding it was to easy. "Yeah," he finally grunted.

"'Yeah', I can ask, or 'yeah', you can ride?" I teased.

"'Yeah', I can ride, not that its any concern of yours."

"Will you teach me?"

"Why should I?"

"Um, I don't know. Because I asked nicely?"

He scowled at me, but it was Casavir who brought up a decent point. "Even if you could ride, where would you keep the animal? We are always venturing down into some ruin or cave for days at a time. They would either starve or be killed if left tethered up top."

"I got that figured out already."

"What, you going to take them down with us? They are not well suited for subterranean treks."

"Nope." I held up a bag. "Behold my greater bag of holding. I figure if I can stick ten full suits of armor in here and have it not weigh anything or get any bigger than this, there should be no problem with a horse fitting."

Everyone stopped and stared at me.

"You can't be serious," Shandra asked, sounding slightly hopeful.

I sighed and glanced at the bag thoughtfully. "No, I guess not. I mean, where would I put the armor then?"


	33. Chapter 33

Disclaimers: NAKEDNESS ENSUES! Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 33

"Did you know, if we had horses, we would be there already?"

"And did you know, for someone who is supposed to save the world, you whine a lot?"

I grinned at Shandra. "Hey, someone has to provide the entertainment."

"This is your idea of entertainment?"

"Well, it certainly entertains me."

Shandra shook her head. "I just don't get you, you know that? You normally seem so free spirited and happy, cracking jokes and laughing at the strangest things. After all you've been through; it doesn't seem to dampen your moods. But then sometimes, well, sometimes you just kind of scare me."

"Hey, my jokes aren't that bad!"

"I'm not talking about that. I mean, like when we're fighting, recently it's been like it doesn't bother you anymore. Taking people's lives doesn't faze you like it should."

I held up my hands in front of me where she could see them. "There's only so much blood you can have on these before… well… before it just stops staining."

"So killing doesn't bother you?"

I thought about that for a while. Did killing bother me? Perhaps the fact it was taking me so long to answer that gave me the answer. Finally I shrugged. "It's hard to explain. I don't enjoy it, but at the same time, I'm not losing much sleep over it. It's not like I wake up and think, 'Oh goody, a new day, the sun is shining and there's a nice breeze. I think I'll go have some coffee, slaughter some bystanders, make myself a sandwich, loot a village and then take a nap.' I just do what I have to to stay alive."

"There are other ways of getting what you need."

I nodded. "And I am more than happy to take those options when they present themselves. But unfortunately, when a bunch of thugs are in the middle of trying to kill me, it's rather difficult to try to reason with them."

She was quiet for a moment. "How about this," she said after a long pause. "How about the next time you have the choice on whether or not to kill something, you do what you can to stop any blood from being shed."

"Fine," I agreed. "But if I die because of this, I swear I'm coming back and haunting your ass."

"Deal."

*****

"Halt!"

The five of us came to an abrupt stop, Casavir and Khelgar clanging loudly as they ran into each other to avoid slamming into Shandra and I. I could hear the dry sound of leather against leather as Bishop drew his bow and pointed it toward the trees where the high pitched voice came from.

I took a few steps forward only to be suddenly caught in a mass of vines that appeared out of no where to tangle our feet.

"We said halt!"

I glared at the trees and tried to move my legs. Hearing swearing and rustling behind me, I could tell the others were doing the same, but none of us could get free. "Who's there? Show yourself," I called, fingering the bow at my side.

Amidst sudden twitters of giggling a brightly colored pixie floated down from one of the trees to hover just out of reach.

"Pixies," Bishop spat. "Just kill them so we can move on."

"You're not a very nice man," the pixie chastised. "We just want to play."

"Play with this," he growled. I could hear the stretch of his bow string and decided it was time for me to intervene.

"Bishop, wait." I looked at the small man floating in front of me. "What do you want from us?"

He hesitated. I don't thing he was expecting us to play along. He brightened suddenly. "Your gold and your clothes!" he chirped.

"I'm afraid I have no gold. I was given a run down castle by someone with a sick sense of humor and was told to rebuild it."

The little pixie shrugged, unconcerned. "Then give us your clothes."

"You're kidding."

He shook his tiny head. "Nope. You give us your clothes and we let you go. Deal?"

I fingered the bow at my side again. I may not be able to move my feet, but I could certainly move my arms…

"Kathrynn…" Shandra's voice chided me.

I turned as best I could to look at her. "You've got to be kidding me."

"We talked about this."

"I hate you," I grumbled, even as I tossed her my bag. Fumbling with the buckles of my armor I finally got the leather off of me. I held it out in front and three pixies came down to grab it. It gave me a perverse sense of pleasure to watch them struggle under the weight. "There. Let us pass now."

The obnoxious laughter got louder. "Nuh uh. Not until we get the rest of it."

"Shandra… I just want you to know… You are going to pay for this," I muttered even as I struggled to peel the leather pants from my legs. The vines at my feet released me enough that I could get them off completely along with my boots. Tossing the pants at a few of the waiting pixies, I managed to get them to land on the head of one of them, knocking him out of the air and driving him to the ground. He managed to crawl out from under crumpled pants, twittering some choice phrases. It was like being sworn at by a two year old sailor.

"Let me guess, you want it all?" At his nod I directed my next warning over my shoulder. "If any of you say anything about this, I swear I will let Khelgar do all the cooking from now on."

"Hey! What's wrong with me cooking?!"

Glaring at the pixie leader the whole time, I quickly took off my skivvies, hoping that my long undershirt would cover all the important bits. I also let my hair down. It only came to mid back, but I knew it was going to make me feel slightly less naked. The laughter was getting louder all around us, but strangely enough, none of my friends were saying a word. Even Bishop was quiet and no longer playing with his bow. Bastard.

I took a deep breath and with face flaming, pulled the undershirt over my head. Tossing it to the last remaining group of pixies I glared at the leader who by now somehow managed to roll on to his back in mid air and was laughing uproariously. "May we go?" I asked archly. He was able to calm down just enough at my question to release the spell that held us in place. Tossing my hair over my shoulder I marched pass the hysterical colony of pixies with my head held high.

"Bishop!" I heard Shandra snap behind me, "You should be finding your feet as interesting as the other two do right now."

I was spared his answer by the buzzing of quickly moving pixie wings by my ear. "You are the most amusing human that has been around in a long while," the leader said in between hearty laughs. "Your clothes are on the top of that hill, with a gift besides." With a last laugh, he floated back to the trees.

Making sure to stay ahead of the others, I made my way to the hill he mentioned. As embarrassed as I was, I was still rather proud that I didn't break into a sprint. Finding my clothing, I crouched down as ladylike as possible and darted into the trees to get dressed.

*****

Struggling with the last buckles on my armor I heard a twig snap behind me. "One word Bishop… One little word…"

I could feel his smirk boring through my skull. "You dropped something."

"As you can see my hands are a little full at the moment," I muttered, still trying to get the final few of the more stubborn buckles.

I heard him come up behind me but was surprised when I felt his hands in my hair. After carefully running his fingers through it once, he swiftly and deftly swept it into a neat pony tail and tied it with the leather thong I had dropped. Shocked, my hands went still on the straps. _Who was this man behind me and what had he done with Bishop??_

"If you're done playing peek-a-boo with the locals, we need to move. It's getting dark fast and we wouldn't want to delay your precious purification. After that little scene I doubt the paladin would be very comfortable making camp tonight. He'd have a hard time sleeping knowing you're only a few feet away from him. I don't think his poor little mind will ever get over that image." he growled in my ear.

_Ah, there's the Bishop I know._

"You sure you're talking about Casavir, Bishop?"

Hot breath stirred the little hairs on my neck for a brief moment, and then it was gone.

I laughed to myself even as I tried to slow down my heart.

_Men._


	34. Chapter 34

A/N I know this story is marked humor, but this is where the drama starts. The next few chapters will be dark, but it's a necessity. Also, there are a few changes from here on out in the story. I hated the last part of the game, so I'm making my own.

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 34

"Four down, one to go."

"Great!" Shandra exclaimed. "How are you feeling about the purification rituals we have already done?"

I looked down at my bloody armor and laughed. "Well, not very pure I can tell you that much. I'll be glad when this is done. There is so much blood on this leather, its starting to get hard to move in. It really needs a good cleaning."

"That's why I like this plate that you gave me. I don't need to worry if it gets wet or messy." Just to prove her point she used a thumb to clean off a spray of blood. After running her finger down my armor to wipe it, she gestured to her own newly shiny plate. "See? All clean."

I glanced down at the new smudge on my leathers. "Thanks," I said dryly. "Remind me of that next time you need the joints oiled."

When she started to laugh, I gave her a mock glare. "I hope you rust," I muttered. Looking over to Casavir, I noted his armor was as shiny as it was when we left the keep. "Maybe we both should stand closer to him in a fight. His paladiny aura seems to have some stain repellent properties."

Shandra and I both laughed at the droll look the man in question gave us.

"If you two are done wasting time, can we finish this job? I want to get done and the hell away from all of you."

I glanced back to see Bishop, his body tense and his mouth twisted in a scowl.

"What's wrong Bishop? To much togetherness for you?"

"Naw," Shandra said, looking at him dismissively. "I think he's just anxious to get back to the keep. He's been a pissy little bitch since the incident with the pixies." She looked at him challengingly. "So, just how long as it been since you've gotten laid ranger?"

Shocked by the statement from the normally not very earthy Shandra, the rest of us didn't even look to watch Bishop's reaction. That was a mistake.

As soon the words left her mouth Bishop had his sword at her neck, the razor sharp point dimpling her skin. We all stood still, knowing that one wrong move and he could slash her throat before we could stop him. Unfortunately, Shandra didn't seem to have those reservations. "Oh, did I hit a nerve? So sorry. I guess I'm just a farm girl like you keep reminding me. Can't help but notice your acting like my neighbors stallion when the mare's in heat and he can't get to her."

Bishop slowly removed his blade from her throat and chuckled darkly. "Funny. Maybe you're not as naive and worthless as I thought." He sheathed his weapon and looked her up and down coldly. "You're right. Our leader here keeps dragging me out on these stupid missions on hers and I just haven't had the time. Well, there's no time like the present I say. I suppose you'll do. Come on farm girl; come show me just how much you know about mares in heat."

Shandra's color rose steadily and her mouth worked silently for awhile. "You're disgusting," she spat finally. "I will never understand why _**she's**_so interested in you."

_Woah woah woah! Why is she bringing me into this?? Maybe they won't know she's talking about me._

All eyes swung to me as she stormed off.

_Crap_

*****

"I hate portals. It always makes me nauseous going through them."

"You're whining again."

"Oh, what's that? I'm sorry; I got distracted by where your throat is bleeding from where your mouth got you in trouble last time."

"Funny."

"I aim to please."

Shandra gave me a light push toward the portal entrance. I stuck my tongue out at her and with a deep breath, stepped through. There were sharp tingles all over my skin, sort of like the pins and needles that come after a body part falls asleep. The tingles were followed by a small pop and my stomach feeling like it dropped, but suddenly I was through. I stepped forward to give the others room to come out but I never made it past that one single step.

I couldn't even feel the others bumping in to me as they came out of the portal. All I could do was stare at the scene before me. "Where are we?" Shandra asked.

I left them there, walking slowly at first and then running to the once familiar buildings. Bodies littered the ground all around me. People I once knew stared sightlessly into the sky or lay huddled in the mud. They were all there. Brother Mering, Georg, the Mossfields, everyone. I ran to my house.

"By the gods," I vaguely heard Khelgar whisper. "What happened here? Where are we?"

"This is West Harbor," Shandra whispered back, horror in her voice. "This is Kathrynn's home."

"Find Daeghun," I told them numbly, darting past the ruined front door. A thorough search of the building yielded no blue skinned elf. When I walked back out, they shook their heads. My father's body was not among those there.

I spied something else in the distance that caught my attention. Walking toward it I found something just at precious to me.

Retta…

The woman who was a mother to me was laying in the mud, her chest ripped open cleanly. Bone showed through her torn skin and clothing, abnormally white against all the red and brown. I stared at it, hypnotized by the glistening wetness of what was left of her chest cavity.

"Kathrynn…"

I didn't answer Casavir's concerned voice. Instead I looked at Retta's dear face. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream. One pale eye bulged from its socket and the other was missing. I mindlessly spared a glance at the mud. Crow tracks were superimposed over fading boot prints.

I felt large hands on my shoulders trying to pull me away but I brushed them off. Kneeling in the cold wet mud, I reached out a hand and tried to carefully close her eyes. Gently shutting her gaping mouth, I stroked a finger down her cheek. I felt strange… detached. I'm not sure how long I knelt there staring at the empty husk but for that moment in time, I had no intention on moving.

The strong gauntleted hands that wrapped around my waist had other plans though. They lifted me out of the mixture of mud and blood to gather me against a metal clad chest. Someone was trying to comfort me, but I was to numb to even figure out who. A deep baritone was whispering to me, a hand stroking my hair, but I didn't feel it. All I could feel was the edge of some deep chasm that was looming before me.

Pulling away, I surveyed all that was left of my past and I felt something die inside of me. Something important. Something human.

"Come on." I said dully. "We have to keep moving."

"Kathrynn, are you alright?" Three pale faces looked at me carefully. Tears were trickling down Shandra's cheeks. Tears that I couldn't shed. Not yet. Not now.

"You heard our leader. Keep moving. We have a job to do."

Khelgar's head snapped to the ranger. "Have ya no heart at all? Can't ya see the lass needs some time?" he snarled at the other man.

"Well it's not like we haven't seen this little scene before. Don't know why you would want to stick around."

"Gods, man! This isn't Ember."

I heard my voice coming from a long way away. "But it is. This is _**my**_ Ember. The buildings are burned the same way, the people killed the same way." My tone dropped, talking more to myself than anyone else. "This is my own personal Ember."

"You're a popular girl kitten. Someone has gone through a lot of trouble just for you. Two Luskan assassination squads just for two little backwater villages? Takes quite a bit of power, or quite a bit of money to send one of them out."

"How dare you imply this is because of her?" Shandra growled.

"Come now, don't be an idiot girl. Why else would someone take the time to raze this little piece of swamp if not to strike at your precious captain?" He smiled his cold smile in the face of the others indignation.

"He's right," I said hollowly. "They're dead because someone wanted to hurt me. They did this to stop me or for revenge."

"This isn't your fault, my lady."

"I know that. But at the same time, it is." I gathered my self together as well as possible. "Why do you think this was Luskan again?" I asked the ranger.

His expression turned cagey. "It looks like their handiwork. I've seen it more than once before."

"Someone is going to pay for this," I stated flatly, looking straight at Bishop. His tawny eyes held no pity, no compassion, just coldness and a promise of blood. That was something the newly dead part of me could deal with and appreciate. A good promise, because when I found the people who did this, there will be blood. Great torrents of crimson to anoint this new emptiness inside of me.

I nodded briefly to the man I was starting to understand more and more. In his eyes I could see that he too was missing what I had just lost.

Giving a last look to the ruins of my home, I started down the path into the swamp.

"Kathrynn…"

I didn't look back; instead I focused on placing one foot in front of the other and focused on the emptiness that would see me through this. "The time for blood is now. Mourning comes later."


	35. Chapter 35

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 35

Aiming my foot at the severed skull on the ground, I gave it a good kick. It brought me a sort of macabre pleasure to watch it sail through the air and smash into little bits against the opposite wall.

I leaned back against the already activated statue of purification and slid down in, coming to sit at the base. Drawing my knees to my chest, I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on them. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me. It wasn't that long ago that I was near these ruins, going with Bevil to retrieve that first damn shard. Since then, I've been attacked, hunted, joined the watch, rescued the girl, given a promotion that I didn't want, attacked some more, accused of being a murderer, fought a trial by combat, given another promotion and a keep I didn't want, been threatened by the very same people who gave me said promotion, gone through four rituals of purification, found my home and loved ones slaughtered, and now this. The last fucking ritual I needed and someone else had gotten there first.

It was one of those crystal clear moments in life where you either had to laugh or slit your wrists. So I laughed. It started out slow, a chuckle that sounded suspiciously like a sob, but it grew steadily until my shoulders were shaking with humorless mirth. My head came back to rest against the moldering statue as I laughed, the sound echoing oddly in the old stone ruins.

No one said anything, but I could tell they were watching me uneasily. The laughter died just as quickly as it started, cut off as if by a knife. I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes briefly before standing once more. Rolling my neck to relieve some of the tension, I walked out of the crypt without a word and headed back to West Harbor.

*****

A tiny part of me had hoped that while we were done, everything would have put right again, that this all would have been a bad dream. Unfortunately, even the sky mirrored my pain, dark and heavy with unshed tears. That, along with the returning reinforced just how real this was. The stench of death hung thick in the swamp air. The putrid smell of rotting flesh and open bowels mixed with the smell of peat and decaying plants, so heavy it coated the back of my throat yet still I breathed deep. I let the smell etch itself in my brain, solidifying the anguish and the icy rage that were breeding deep in me.

Still silent, I headed over to the Mossfield's barn, but the large doors were barred from the inside.

"Axe," I said quietly, my voice husky from disuse. Other than my fit of laughter, I had not spoken once in the long hours since leave leaving this place for the ruins. Khelgar, equally silent, pulled his war axe from the loop in his belt and handed it to me. I briefly glanced down at the many notched handle. The scarred wood was running out of clear spaces. Perhaps it was time for an upgrade.

Gripping the axe tightly, I swung at the door, letting my frustration and anger chop away at the old wood planks.

"My lady," I heard Casavir start saying but his words faltered at the cold stare I gave him. I returned to my chopping. It didn't take long before I had made a hole large enough to get through. Handing the axe back the Khelgar, I ducked into the hole, snagging my leather armor on the splintered wood. Standing up inside, my eyes adjusted to the dimness quickly. Dust motes danced in the few rays of light that were coming in through the air vents at the top of the building. The smell of death wasn't nearly so thick here, covered as it was by the sweet smell of hay and animal feed.

I caught a movement from the other side of the building. My hands went to my weapons, but it was Bishop that stepped forward in the dim light. He smirked slightly as I stared at him. "The side door was unlocked."

A muscle clenched spastically in my jaw. Ignoring his comment, I went to the corner where I knew the mucking shovels were kept. Grabbing one off the rack, I went back outside, this time by the side door.

It was a short walk over to the small graveyard at the side of tiny cottage that used to be Brother Mering's. Moving away from the markers already dug into the soil, I drove the shovel deep into the ground. I was only semi aware of the sounds of gear being dropped to the ground, the clank of armor being removed. Before I had time to get more than a dozen shovels of the rich dirt moved, another shovel slid in next to mine, followed by another, and another.

An hour passed in silence, the only noise the scraping of the shovels. I straightened up, stretching out the aching muscles in my back. I noticed Bishop looking rather curiously at the tracks in the hardening mud. Driving my shovel into the rapidly growing pile of dirt, I walked over to him.

"See anything useful?"

"Other than four idiots playing in the mud you mean?"

I leveled him a hard stare. His lids lowered, veiling the unreadable expression in his eyes. We sized each other up for a while. Apparently he saw something in me that he recognized because for once it was he who looked away first and nodded briefly.

I reached up and captured his jaw between my hands. Rising onto my toes to close the distance, I hissed into his ear, "Hunt them. Find them, but don't kill them. Their lives are _mine_." His eyes flashed dangerously and his lips curled back in a smile that was more of a bearing of teeth. I knew my words would please him. There was nothing he liked more than hunting and killing his fellow Luskans.

"We will be here for a day. Find me if we are gone," I whispered, running my thumb across his stubbly cheek before releasing his face. He barely acknowledged me before he was gone, heading to the trees and blending in with the shadows. I had no fear that he wouldn't do this though. For all that he balked at orders, when they lead to bloodshed he was happy enough to follow them, so long as they suited him.

I returned to the others and the grim job of grave digging. Taking up my shovel, I thrust it into the wet ground. No need for words, we worked in silence. It wasn't long before the pungent aroma of labor started to override the stink of death. The smell of sweat was alive and strangely comforting.

Night descended quickly as it does in the autumn months but the grave was dug. We stood back and took a look at our handiwork. During war, there wasn't time for individual rites of passage, or even the respect of individual resting places. We had to make due with a mass grave, and I prayed that the souls of my fellow villagers would understand.

I glanced at Casavir. His undershirt was soaked with sweat and clung tightly to his broad chest and back. Azure eyes shone with compassion and I had to look away. There wasn't time for that yet. If I accepted the comfort that was being offered, I wouldn't be able to finish what I needed to do.

Working in pairs, we laid the bodies side by side in the hole. I did a final sweep of the village, looking in houses and any other place we might have missed. Back at the graveyard, a large fire was built. I returned to my friends, standing at the edge of the pit. Casavir stood stoically as I looked in.

So many bodies… So much pain… So much death.

The tragic waste of it all never even made it through my shell of pain and rage until now. Seeing all those bodies lined up neatly sent a shock through me. Casavir started to speak the words of passage. He had been so long by my side fighting, that I think I forgot he was a _holy_ warrior and that this was as much a part of him as the rest. He finished the prayers and the blessings and began to sing a heartfelt lament. Shandra, and even Khelgar were crying as his deep voice flowed, rich and true.

His song ended, the last note hanging in the air. We stood there, the crackle of the fire and the hoot of the night owl as our backdrop. Then the gods wept. Only moments after Casavir's voice faded, the skies opened and rain came down, clean and pure but twinged with sorrow.

I swallowed hard and moved grab the shovel for the last time. Methodically I began to fill in the hole. The digging and the moving the bodies wasn't as hard as this was. Watching the dirt fall over the faces of the people I had grown up was very nearly enough to break my shell. I forced my self to watch as each shovelful of Faerûn covered them. The others joined me and in half the time that it took to dig, the grave was covered. I raised my face to the sky and let the steady drops clean off the dirt and grime. If a tear or two leaked out, I didn't know. It could have just been the rain.

*****

I had them bed down in the barn that night, the sweet hay making soft beds under their cloaks. I needed to be alone. Wandering the well trod paths of my village, I found myself back at my old home. Going past the broken door I made my way into my father's room. It was remarkably untouched. His scant items were still neatly lines up on his trunks and his bed was still meticulously made. A wave of exhaustion hit me. Shrugging out of my wet clothing, I crawled into his bed. The hand sewn quilt still smelled faintly like him. With it wrapped tightly around me, I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

*****

Morning followed night, as it had for ages untold. I awoke to light streaming in the side window. For a moment I was confused, why was I sleeping in Daeghun's bed? Then it hit me in that awful rush that comes with tragedy. One moment there is blissful forgetfulness and then the memories came back with a vengeance, making each moment be relived. I was tempted to go back to sleep and forget just for a while longer, but I couldn't. Although the bodies were buried, there was still one thing left for me to do.

I made my way back out side quickly. The others were gathering up their items as Shandra handed me a plate of something. I took it even though I wasn't hungry and ate knowing I would need my strength. I glanced at the grave. Someone had lined it neatly with rocks while I was asleep.

"Why didn't you wake me?" I asked softly, gesturing to the white outline in the graveyard.

"Casavir said we should let you sleep."

I nodded. That sounded like something Casavir would do.

"We'll head back to the keep today."

She glanced at the woods. "Not that I mind leaving him behind, but what about Bishop?"

"He'll find us," I said simply, secure in the knowledge he could track us where ever we went.

With a nod, she went to give the others my orders. She spoke with Casavir quietly, glancing at me all the while. It wasn't long before he made his way over to me.

"Are you sure you're ready to move on?"

His question was heavy, and it asked a lot more than just my readiness to travel. "I'm ready to leave this place. As for moving on… I will be soon enough."

We left shortly after that. I walked down the path that led away from the village, never looking back. I had enough memories of the place to last me a life time.


	36. Chapter 36

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 36

Half a day on the road and I found myself searching the tree line every few minutes looking for a pair of wolven eyes. Night fell and there was still no sign of him. The rain had started again, only a light drizzle but enough to make the ground and our clothing wet and uncomfortable. When it was time to stop and make camp, the rain showed no sign of letting up. The fire was no problem to get started thanks to one of the wands of Flame Touch that Sand had made us, but the idea of sleeping in cold wet armor was more than we could stomach.

I tossed a couple of my bags of holding to the others. "There are some oil cloth tents in there. They should at least keep the rain off."

I reached into my own bag to pull mine out. Within minutes we had four tents erected and a stew made from whatever we had left in our packs. Bishop normally was the one who provided fresh meat. I could have found us something but I had other things to do.

Sinking down on a log by the fire, I pulled out my weapons and slowly and methodically began honing their edges. The motions were soothing and the _scrape scrape scrape _of the whetstone becameto my ears a litany of _soon soon soon._

Holding the weapon up in the dying evening light I sighted down the blade to check the grind. Satisfied, I nodded and set it back in its sheath. Casavir sat down next to me as I began work on the next one. I cocked an eyebrow in his direction but didn't look up from my work. So far everyone had left me alone and given me space. Personally I had thought it would be Shandra that tried to speak to me first.

"I noticed you spoke with Bishop last night before he left. What did you send him to do?"

"Track."

"Track what?"

"Animals."

He sighed deeply. "Sending him out to exact revenge won't bring them back my lady," he said quietly.

I looked down the edge of my blade again and noticing a rough spot, I continued with the whetstone. "I'm sure I don't know what you're referring to."

He placed his hand over mine, forcing me to stop my sharpening less I cut him. "What happened back there was an atrocity. But you need to mourn, not-"

"Please, spare me the lecture my friend. Bishop is not out killing anyone on my orders, so don't worry about it," I interrupted coldly.

His hand withdrew from mine slowly and standing he gave me a tiny bow. "When you are ready my lady, I will be there."

I said nothing while I ran the stone over the blade. Finally I nodded slightly.

Later that night I laid in my tent listening to the rain splash on the taut fabric. Every once in a while I would hear noises as Khelgar moved around outside on watch. Thinking I needed rest, they had managed it so that there would only be three shifts tonight. I must have laid there at least an hour before I finally managed to fall asleep.

_West Harbor again, but this time the buildings were still on fire._

_A circle of men, all dressed in the same leather armor ringed the village. Their faces were blackened with soot, all different yet all with the same. The same yellow eyes burned out of unique snarling faces._

_I try to run, but I can't move, my legs stuck to the ground as if rooted._

_There is silence except for the pounding of my heart. Bodies that litter the ground start to move, to stand. One by one they arise and all turn to me. Familiar faces hidden behind masks of blood. Their movements are slow and choppy as they raise a hand toward me, fingers pointing accusingly._

_I swallow past the hard lump of my fear and reach for my weapons, but my hands only brush against the rough homespun cloth of my tunic._

_I look down. I am dressed just like them. I was one of them, but I was alive._

_The dead ones move closer and still I can't move. The snarling faces with yellowed eyes begin to laugh. Why can't I move??_

_The closest dead one, Retta, reached out with decaying fingers and touched my face. It's cold, so cold. My mouth opened to scream…_

I sat bolt upright, panting franticly and trying not to release the scream that was tearing at my throat. My face still felt cold and when I touched my cheekbone it was moist. It was then that I noticed the echo to my panting. I looked around and finally noticed Karnwyr sitting on his haunches in the tiny tent, his tongue lolling happily out of his mouth. As I stared at him he came forward and gave my face another nudge with his cold wet nose. I grabbed his ears and buried my face in his scruff and waited from my heart to calm down.

It was time.

I gathered my items as quietly as possible and crept out of the tent. Khelgar's back was to me but before I could take more than a few steps towards the trees he called after me quietly.

"What do ya want me to tell the others?"

"Whatever you want. Just head to the keep and I will meet you back there."

He nodded, still staring at the fire. "Good hunting lassie. Stay alive."

I nodded back although I knew he couldn't see it. Karnwyr looked at me impatiently and I began to follow him once more. He led me deep into the forest, away from the camp and the others. I lost him a few times, unable to keep up with his lopping pace as he went under low branches that I was forced to climb over. He always was waiting for me though, just beyond the bushes or a tree or some other landmark that had no relevance to me.

He disappeared again as I struggled to get past a particularly thick mass of branch and vines but this time he didn't reappear. I walked more in the direction that he was leading me but when no sight of my guide greeted me I stopped.

"Tell me you found them."

Silence answered me at first. I could sense eyes on my back but I refused to turn. "And if I did?" came the voice, as cold and smooth as unworn silk.

I turned finally and pinned him with an icy stare. His eyes wandered over my form, coming to rest where my fingers stroked my weapons meaningfully. Amber eyes met mine. "It won't be easy. They aren't an untrained orc hoard that you can just cut your way through."

"If you don't want to join me, you don't have to, but I'm doing this either way.

His eyes continued to bore into mine. Tension began to build until it was thick enough to taste. A hoot of a night owl broke through the still air. We both looked away. "Come on," he growled. "They are headed the same direction you are so we should be able to get to them in time to do this tonight if we move quick."

Slipping through the woods, it was as if he could either see a trial that I could not, or that nature just got out of his way. Either way our progress was swift and silent.

We walked for hours until finally Bishop held up a hand to stop us. Motioning for silence he jerked his head toward a clearing in the trees. A hundred feet away stood a ring of bed rolls, some filled, some not. Scattered around the camp four men kept watch. I did a swift count of everyone. Seven. Seven men were able to completely obliterate my home. Seven men were able to murder the entire fighting force that held off the Githyanki and the Bladelings. It made me cold to think about it. Bishop was right, these men weren't an untrained horde of orcs, but they would still bleed the same way. Of that I was sure.

As I looked over the encampment, I felt… nothing. It was strange. I thought I would have felt more when this time came. I'm not sure what I was expecting, some of the anger that had been my constant companion these past two days perhaps. Something other than this cold, calm emptiness that encased me like a suit of armor. I glanced at Bishop and unhooked my bow. With a nod he readied his own bow and melted into the trees. As he faded away I crept closer to the edge of the trees, heading for the clearing. I needed to get into a good firing range, but still stay out of sight. With darkness as my cover I managed to find such a spot.

Several minutes went by as I waited for him to find a suitable position. Judging enough time passed, I notched an arrow and carefully sighted down the shaft. The camp was silent, each man on watch carefully doing his duty. I chose one calmly, and let the arrow fly. As I watched the path of my arrow I heard a surprised grunt. One of the other men fell, an arrow shaft buried between his eyes. In the split second between my release and Bishop's, my target turned to see what the noise was. My arrow missed its original mark of the assassin's heart to land off center in his chest.

I swore softly to myself. The man was down but not out. The other men were waking up and were immediately on their toes. I should have expected that Luskan assassins wouldn't be so helpful as to have a few moments of convenient grogginess and confusion. Without delay they split into two groups, each heading in the directions that the arrows came. I smiled grimly and grabbing my weapons, prepared to meet them.

*****

The fight was hard and my heart thundered in my chest. Darkness, my ally, my cloak suddenly became a hindrance. For all that they couldn't see mine; I too couldn't see the subtle shifts of their bodies that gave away their intentions. I was semi aware of the blades that got through my defenses but they weren't important. What was important was the red flow of justice. And oh, how it flowed. Each thrust was a balm to my soul, soothing, strengthening, healing.

The clangs and grunts of battle faded out until the only thing in my ears was the pulse of my blood. My heartbeat was my war drum.

_Thump Thump_

My blade ripped through leather and flesh, opening a stomach.

_Thump Thump_

A spin to deflect a blow and my second blade flashed in the moonlight, the trailing arc of blood black against the midnight sky.

_Thump Thump_

The man holding in his entrails landed his blade in my shoulder. The pain never registered.

_Thump Thump_

A sword burst out of his chest, skewering his heart from behind.

_Thump Thump_

My two blades scissored on a neck, cutting deep. Arterial spray hit me in the face and filled my mouth. I spat the thick coppery fluid on the ground and looked around. Everything seemed to be slowed down unnaturally.

_Thump Thump_

There was one man left standing, a foot on the downed Luskan as he removed his blade from the impaled body. My breathing was ragged and I could feel the still warm blood trickling down my flesh, the sensation crystal clear in the stillness around me.

_Thump_

My vision narrowed, closing in on the edges.

_Thu_

Darkness.


	37. Chapter 37

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 37

I was floating somewhere, somewhere soft and grey. I could feel a cold breeze flow over my skin, lifting the tiny hairs on my flesh. My mouth twisted into a frown as I shivered. Why was I so cold?

The soft grey began to lighten and the shivering got worse. Something hard and heavy pressed against my breastbone, stopping the fine tremors. The weight was crushing me, compressing my lungs. No longer was I floating the in the soft grey. Suddenly I was pinned between the heavy weight and the unyielding ground. My eyes flew open to see the leather clad knee resting on my chest.

Pain. Pain was the first sensation, sharp and instantaneous. My entire body ached and my veins burned dryly. The second sensation was that of a needle being pulled through my flesh. A hiss came through clenched teeth and I jerked away from the stinging.

"Stay still," came the growled order.

"Can't breathe," I gasped, weakly trying to wriggle out from under his knee.

If anything, the pressure on my chest increased as Bishop continued his stitching on my inner forearm. I laid as still as possible, the weight on my chest actually helping the tiny tremors abate as he braced my arm against his other thigh. When he finally finished and backed off, I focused on getting air into my lungs. Another wave of pain hit and I had to close my eyes against it. When I could speak again, I asked the first thing on my mind. "Are they dead?" I whispered.

"Yes."

I rested my head more comfortably against the cold ground and felt a small satisfied smile quirk my lips. "I'm glad." Another cold breeze blew over my body and started the shivering again. I tried to raise my head slightly and look down my front. All I could see were my bare breasts covered in dried blood. "Bishop, where's my shirt?"

I rolled my head to look at him standing a few feet away looking down at me. "Don't worry," he said coolly. "You don't have anything I haven't seen before."

I tried to snort, but it didn't quite come out right. "I bet," I muttered. I lifted my head again to look. Exhausted by the effort, my skull thumped down into the dirt, but not before I saw the leather pants I wore as armor had been unlaced and opened slightly. The part that concerned me though was the line of black stitches that curved in from my side to trail just above my hip bone and to play across my lower abdomen.

"Well…" I murmured weakly. "You certainly know how to show a girl a good time."

This time, it was Bishop that snorted. I waited a few minutes, more tired than I have ever been before. "So," I said finally. "Think I could get some clothes?"

Wordlessly, I heard him rummaging through a pack. Shortly after, he came back to me with a shirt tossed over his shoulder. I glanced at it and noticed immediately that it was unfamiliar. "This isn't mine," I commented inanely.

He jerked his head and glanced pointedly at something near my head. I took a look and saw a large pile of shredded brown cloths. On closer inspection I noticed that some of the brown wasn't brown at all, but was wet with a deep dark red. "Ah." That was a lot of blood. Too much in fact. "That all mine?"

"Yeah."

"Ah," I said again. I tried to tighten the laces at my waist, but my muscles just didn't want to cooperate. I glanced at Bishop and his unreadable expression. "Help please?" A muscle twitched in his jaw, but he came forward. His eyes held mine as he pulled the laces tight, his fingers brushing my bloodied skin. Even as pained as I was, each touch still sent a shock of awareness through me.

Leaning forward and sliding a hand under my shoulders, he lifted me to a sitting position. Every inch I moved was agony, bringing my focus away from the warmth of his hands. A hiss escaped my lips, but finally I was sitting upright. I was able to get a better view of the black stitches in that position. There were more than I originally thought. Almost the entire length of my side was decorated with a surprisingly neat line of thread. The cleaned stitched area stood out in sharp contrast to the rest of my skin where blood had dried in large flaky patches.

I cleared my throat trying to rid it of the lingering raspyness. "I thought I brought healing potions."

"You did."

"Why didn't you use them?" I asked, my voice muffled by the shirt that he was trying to get over my head.

"I did," he said.

"Ah."

_Well, listen to me. I'm just full of insightful commentary today._ I looked around and finally saw the pile of small empty potion bottles. _Huh… There certainly are a lot of those._

Shirt finally on and situated, I looked closer at the man kneeling next to me. "I nearly died, didn't I?"

He scowled. "No. "

I raised an eyebrow, or at least tried to. My body parts weren't responding like they should. "You did die," he said brusquely. "You stopped breathing and your heart stopped. Lucky for you though, seems like you're as unpopular in the planes as you are here. The gods threw you back. They didn't want you." His voice was cruel but his eyes didn't match his tone. There odd wariness under the perpetual glare.

"Yeah. Lucky me," I said softly. I was alive, even though it seemed that is was just barely. Vengeance had been taken. In fact, proof of retribution still lay in bloody heaps all around the edges of the camp. The whispers of my village no longer seemed so loud in my ears. Why then did I still feel so… numb?

I moved my limbs experimentally, fighting the deep lethargy in them. Trying to get up seemed to be out of the question. A wave of dizziness came over me. I closed my eyes and waited for it to pass. The pain was still there, but it had toned down to a dull roar instead of the incessant screaming that it had been when I first awoke.

"If you fall over, I'm not patching you up again."

I opened my eyes to see Bishop still scowling at me. "Why did you?"

"Why did I what?"

"Patch me up, save my life… Again."

His scowl deepened. "Your damned uncle called his debt due," he snapped.

"That's a load of shit and you know it," I said quietly.

He pinned me with a hateful glare and for a moment I felt a trickle of unease. Weak as I was, perhaps now was not the best time to bait him. Bishop started walking the direction that we originally came, his back stiff with anger. Just before disappearing out of site, he made a low whistle and jerked his head back in my direction. I saw Karnwyr come out of the underbrush to pad over to where I sat. At least with his wolf here, I had some certainty that he would be coming back. I hoped…

*****

_Bishop stalked off through the forest, coldly furious. How dare she assume she knew him, what motivated him? It would serve her right if he left her there. As weak as she was, there was no way she could make it back to the keep on her own. Although, leaving her there to the mercy of the wild wasn't in his original plans. If anyone was going to kill her, it would be him, and in a way that he could profit from._

_He snarled quietly to himself. The girl was getting dangerous. He found himself making more and more excuses on why he was still around. It was past time to leave. The fact that he had felt a brief moment where his own heart stopped when she fell was proof enough. He tried to push that moment of fear out of his mind._

_His sword had impaled the last Luskan with satisfying ease. The highly polished metal slipping in without much resistance, the slight delay of the ribcage, the strangled gurgle as the man's weight dragged the blade up and into his lungs. It had given Bishop a sort of perverse pleasure to take his life. The body had crumpled to the ground clearing his field of vision in time to see Kat's two blades slice across another throat, nearly severing the Luskan's head._

_As he worked on getting his blade out of his kill, he had watched her as she spat out the mouth full of blood and blink slowly to clear her vision. The deadly calm on her face was chased away by a look of confusion and then she fell hard and heavy to the blood soaked grass. Yanking the sword the rest of the way out of the body he crossed over to where she lay in a few long strides. Blood covered her from head to foot making it nearly impossible to tell what was hers and what wasn't._

_He had grabbed at the healing potions he knew she kept in her belt. Pouring one in her mouth he waited for her to drink it down. When there was no movement of her throat he had pinched her nose hard. Seconds dragged like years until with a loud glurk she swallowed. With his knife he had cut her from her armor, briefly amused by the irony that he was skinning her with the very knife she had given him. It had cut through the soft thick leather easily. He followed suit with her shirt, the linen clinging wetly to her flesh, sticking in the blood._

_The wounds had bled freely, a hundred different cuts and a few deadly deep gashes. More and more potions went down her throat but they could only heal so much damage. She was bleeding out before they had a chance to close. Her ragged breath caught in her throat and he watched as the rapidly jumping pulse at her neck stuttered and… stopped._

_His own heart stopped at that moment, and for the first time he felt an uncomfortable trickle of fear. Looking around quickly for more potions, all he could find was empty bottles. A wave of anger had come over him. The idiot girl. Why did she thing that she could take on an entire Luskan assassination squad and live? Being stupid like that just lead to being dead. He sat back on his heels and looked down on the bloody body that lay lifeless. "Stupid little thief," he had muttered, glad that no one had been around to hear how rough his voice sounded. Before he had a chance to stand though, a strangled gasp was torn from her throat and before his very eyes, the puddle of blood that had pooled in the hollow of Kathrynn's throat began to jump erratically._

_Unfortunately, with the beating heart came the blood once more from the two deepest cuts that the potions couldn't heal. After that had been the matter of finding bandages to staunch the flow until his could find the kit he had used more than once before to stitch himself up when no other healing was to be had._

_Saving a life instead of taking one grated, but had he left her there he would have to deal with the others coming after him. They wouldn't believe that he had nothing to do with her death. The paladin he could deal with, in fact, killing him would be enjoyable. Same with the dwarf and tiefling. The only one that concerned him was the elf. The wizard was Luskan and patient. That alone made him devious. There was also the thought of her being dead that for some reason sat uncomfortably with him._

_Bishop's scowl grew deeper as he made his way toward his destination. The girl was getting to him. That was something he would have to change, and soon._


	38. Chapter 38

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 38

Alone on my personal battlefield, I was able to look my fill on what my vengeance had brought. As the sun climbed higher into the sky the morning light dappled through the trees cheerfully, fully illuminating the bloody heaps of flesh that had once been humans. I viewed it with detachment. Killing them had brought me no pleasure, but it had brought a worrisome tendril of satisfaction.

From my seat on the ground, I looked from face to face. Most of them were my age or only slightly older. Something told me this job choice of theirs didn't go hand in hand with a long life expectancy. Even in death the faces were cruel and worn. Old scars met new ones with great frequency and their expressions were not what were normally seen on those that fell in battle. Usually, there was a grimace of pain, a look of shock or horror frozen forever etched into their features. Not so with these men. They all looked grim, accepting almost.

All but one. One of the men caught my attention. I twisted as gingerly as possible in order to get a better look. This one had a different look; one so out of place that it took me a bit to recognize it. Relief. An arrow shaft had impaled him between the eyes and his last emotion in the millisecond before death had been relief. In studying his face and trying to place the emotion, it took me a bit to realize just how young he was. The assassin couldn't have been older than sixteen. A boy, not a man yet brought down just the same.

I looked away. It made me sick to think that Luskan could take a young man, a child, and turn him into some heartless trained killer. I felt no guilt for his death, everyone makes their decisions in life and must live with the consequences, but still the waste of it all was frustrating.

Lips pressed tight in frustration and pain, I scooted myself backwards along the blood splattered grass in an attempt to find a place to wait were I wasn't staring at corpses. Moving with one hand was difficult but any effort to use the other resulted in blood seeping out from in between the stitches. Standing was also out of the question with as weak as I was. Instead I had to content myself with inching along the ground like a worm.

Exhaustion decided for me that where I was currently was good enough. Carefully I laid back to stare at the clouds in the sky and I waited.

*****

Without realizing it, I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I sensed was a shadow passing over my face. Karnwyr, who had lain down at my side earlier lifted his head from his paws and panted slightly in greeting. I kept my eyes closed and waited. After a moment of silence, the shadow moved on. There was a rustling dragging sound and curiosity made me open my eyes. One by one, Bishop was dragging the bodies away from the campsite and dumping them deeper in the woods. By the time he had moved the last body, the sun was starting its decent and I wasn't feeling any stronger than I had earlier.

I sat up painfully and watched as he came back to the camp, this time leading a horse. After tethering it nearby he removed a heavy pouch from his bags and fitted the feedbag over the horse's head.

I raised an eyebrow. "When did you get a horse?" I asked dryly.

His reply was just as dry. "When I passed a farmer's field."

"I've said I can't ride," I reminded him.

He shrugged, looking unconcerned. "You can't walk either."

I harrumphed, grudgingly acknowledging his point. "So, when are we leaving?"

"Are you so eager to get back to your precious keep?" he asked as he came over with an arm load of tree limbs and started laying them in the cold fire pit that the others had dug.

His tone set my jaw on edge. "Not particularly," I said coolly. "However in a while, those bodies are going to start to stink no matter how far away you tossed them. I don't particularly want to be around here when that happens."

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as if he had an urge to grin. "Don't worry princess. You'll get back to your castle before anything offends your delicate sensibilities."

I ran a hand through my sticky matted hair and gave him a fake disapproving look. "The princess's _delicate sensibilities_ are offended by your tone ranger." As he gave me that rare tiny smile for a moment it felt like it used to. Two comrades sitting in camp after a battle joking with each other to take their minds off just how dirty, sore and uncomfortable they really were. The feeling faded quickly however leaving me with a sense of loss.

We were silent for a while, him getting the pit ready and me sitting there awkwardly, unable to help. Exhausted by my wounds, both physical and mental, I fell asleep again. When I awoke this time a neatly folded cloak was pillowing my head and something small and meaty looking was roasting over the fire. I blinked several times to clear my clouded eyes and sat up. The night air was cold but the portion of meat Bishop handed me was hot, filling my belly with its warmth as I ate.

Finished with the meal and the bones thrown into the fire I stared at the dancing flames and thought. "The one you shot," I said quietly, "he was young."

Bishop gave me a harsh look. "So I should have let him live? He would have killed us no matter what his age, or are you already forgetting your little village?"

I watched the fire leap and crackle as I tried to figure out just what I wanted to say. "No, I'm not forgetting nor am I saying he should have lived. He had a choice to be part of that group. By making that choice he was dead the moment he step foot in West Harbor… I just wondered if it was normal that they recruit children."

"Yeah," he grunted, "its normal."

Comprehension dawned. "How old were you?" I asked softy, my eyes still on the fire.

"Fourteen."

As my mouth opened to ask another question he stood up. "Get some sleep," he commanded, gesturing to the single bed roll he had laid out earlier. "We leave at first light."

"What about you?"

"I'm not the one who died this morning."

"Good point," I muttered as I carefully made my way over there, the greasy meat I had eaten earlier giving me the strength to do so. Settling myself gingerly on the bed roll I pulled the blankets up over me. At once Bishop's scent surrounded me like a cocoon, the warm male smell bringing to mind that even though he always seemed tough and untouchable, he was only human. "Bishop," I called softly to his back. The sudden stiffness in his shoulders was the only indication he had heard me. "From what I've seen… You did that boy a favor."

He glanced over his shoulder at me, the reflected fire turning his shuttered gaze to molten gold. "Sleep," he ordered again after a long moment. And so I did.

*****

I woke slowly, enjoying the lingering warmth that until a short while ago had pressed against my back. Blinking to clear my blurry eyes I took mental stock of my injuries. I decided that while they still throbbed painfully, I felt slightly less like a gutted fish and more like a human being. Yawning, and fighting the urge to stretch like I would normally do in the morning I got to my feet and tested my wobbly legs. A bit of cold meat left over from last nights dinner was waiting for me, the tin plate resting on a rock. I ate slowly, the cold greasy rabbit sitting uneasily in my stomach as I watched the ranger pack up our camp and ready the horse.

"I'm ready to go when you are," I said, swallowing the last bit of breakfast.

He led the horse over to me and looked at me expectantly. When I just stood there looking at the large animal, he grabbed my waist impatiently and lifted me onto the horse's back. Startled by the sudden movement the horse sidestepped nervously, its head tossing. Bishop grabbed the reins and whispered something to it. The animal calmed almost immediately and he vaulted up on the horse's bare back as easily as he was born to it, settling himself in front of me.

I stared at the broad back before me, unsure what to do. "Hold on to me," he snapped. Tentatively I placed my hands at his hips. He made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. "I said hold on!" he snarled, grasping my hands and pulling till I slid forward and my chest was pressed hard against his rigid back. The stitches stretched and pulled painfully as Bishop locked my hands firmly around his waist and without waiting to see if I was set, he took off.

We flew down a path that only he and the horse could see. I closed my eyes. Never had I been so high or moved so fast, not to mention I was uncomfortable as hell. Where Bishop seemed to move as if he was part of the horse, I moved like a wooden stick floating in the rapids, all mad bobbing and bone jarring bouncing.

My tail bone had had enough. I tapped his waist and called for him to slow down. He pulled the mare to a stop and glared at me over his shoulder. "What is it now?" he snapped.

"Give me a moment to get situated. Any more like this and I'll be dead again before we get there," I snapped back. He grumbled something under his breath which I decided to ignore.

Gripping him more tightly around the waist, I scooted my hips forward until he was nestled against me, every inch pressed to him tightly. His tense back tightened even more and he blew out a harsh breath. "Comfortable now, my lady?" His voice had his typical sneering tone to it, but there was something else underneath it.

I tapped his stomach to let him know I was ready to continue and muttered, "I just need to feel how you move."

He gave a short bark of humorless laughter at that and we were off again. "If you wanted to 'feel how I move' just ask. You're not as pretty as the farm girl but then, I'm not one to turn down a ride."

I ground my teeth and said nothing. Instead I closed my eyes and focused on the movements of man and horse. It's one thing when someone tells me how to do something, but it was another when I can actually feel how it should go. It didn't take long before my body fell into a comfortable rhythm mirroring Bishop's.

We rode through the morning and the afternoon, stopping every few hours to give the horse a break. Muscles I didn't know I even had were aching, along with the wounds, making my whole body feel like an exposed nerve. I was also tiring quickly. A few times I blinked and suddenly found that the landscape had changed and that my cheek was pressed against Bishop's shoulder. My grip on his waist slackened as my strength faded. Growling something about the horse getting tired, he slowed it to a more sedate pace.

I blinked again and suddenly it was dusk. Raising my head from its rather comfortable pillow I looked over his shoulder and saw the keep rising in the distance. For a second I had an urge to tell him to turn the horse around. I had already lost nearly everything I cared about and it had left me hollow. If I continued on this path, I knew that eventually it would take everything that was left.

I bit my tongue to keep from speaking out loud. Whether or not I ran, the outcome would be the same, at least for me. Besides, I've never backed down from a fight in the past, and now didn't seem like a good time to start.

We drew through the gate and into the courtyard amidst shouts of, "The captain is back!" Bishop dismounted and as he was getting ready to pull me off the horse, Kana and Casavir strode up.

"Where have you been?" Kana demanded. "You have responsibilities. You can't just disappear into the night and not tell anyone where you are going. Sir Nevalle is already on his way back to take control incase you weren't planning on returning."

I didn't even bother glancing at her as I braced myself with Bishop's shoulders. "I had business to attend to," I told her coolly as I was lifted from the horse. The ranger stared at the man at Lieutenant Kana's side as I slid slowly down his chest until my feet were finally resting on the ground. I stepped away from Bishop and noticed his stomach had smears of blood all across it. Looking at my wrist I saw that some of the neat black thread had snapped, most likely from the friction of holding on to his waist during the ride.

"I got blood on you. Send it up to me and I'll make sure to get it cleaned," I said quietly to him.

"Captain! Have you not heard anything I said? Sir Nevalle will be here at any time, and you're discussing your laundry?"

I finally turned to look at Kana, showing them for the first time the large red stain at my side and on the sleeve. Her lips thinned grimly but for once she was silent. I looked at Casavir. His jaw was tight with worry and frustration. "I take it you didn't tell her?"

He shook his head. "We were waiting for you."

"Tell me? Tell me what? All I know is you had a mission that you disappeared from before completing and no one was saying anything."

"West Harbor is gone. Everyone who was there is dead," I said dispassionately. "I had to take out the trash left over."

"My lady, are you sure you want to talk about this here?" Casavir asked, looking around the suddenly quiet courtyard.

I shrugged. "Why not? My lieutenant thinks it urgent enough that she needed to berate me in the middle of the yard."

Kana's face was pale as she remembered what exactly West Harbor was to me. Taking a small pouch from my hip I tossed it to her. "That's for Nevalle. See that he gets it." Turning on my heel and trying hard to hide my quivering legs I walked away. As soon as I got out of view though, my knees buckled. Leaning against the wall for support, all I managed to do was slide down it.

Closing my eyes and resting my head against the hard stone, a snort came from behind me. I didn't even have to look to see who had followed me. "You always manage to see me at my best," I muttered, more to myself than to him. I glanced at Bishop leaning causally against my wall. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to help me a little longer and take me to bed, would you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe later," he said silkily. "Personally I prefer my playmates to be a bit livelier."

"Funny."

He knelt down and scooped me into his arms. "You have no idea."

"I can walk you know," I muttered as he stood easily and started heading toward the stairs that led to the bedchambers that had been constructed before we left.

"Except for you would probably fall down the stairs and break your neck."

"What do you care?"

He grinned evilly. "The price on your head is higher if you're alive."

I snorted, genuinely amused. "Protecting your investment?"

"Exactly."


	39. Chapter 39

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 39

Bishop barely left my room before a quiet knock came at my door. At my response it opened carefully and Casavir stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. I sighed and held up a halting hand. "If you feel the need to lecture me, it has to wait. I need a bath before I can listen to it."

"I saw that you were bleeding. I came to see if you needed assistance," he said quietly.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I do." I rolled up the long sleeve of Bishop's shirt and held out my injured arm for inspection.

Taking my arm in a gentle yet firm grasp he looked over the wound carefully. "How bad was this originally?" he asked, pressing against the raw edges of the wound looking for any sign of infection.

"I don't know," I muttered through clenched teeth, trying my damnedest not to hiss at the pain. When he released my arm, it was hard to not cradle it protectively against my chest.

"You don't know?" he asked, gesturing for me to show him my side.

I turned over onto my hip and lifted the edge of the shirt, exposing the long expanse of stitching down my ribs. "I was fighting, and then I passed out. I don't remember anything before waking up to Bishop sewing my wrist back together."

The tightness between his brows became more pronounced as he looked along the ugly slice over my ribs, tracing with his eyes to where it disappeared into the waistline of my pants. "What happened to using all the healing potions Sand is always giving you?"

I smiled grimly. "We used them all. They couldn't heal these."

He didn't say a thing as he gestured that I could lower the shirt. He locked my gaze with his own. I could feel a feathers brush touch as the edges of his aura reached out ever so slightly to feel me. The brush stroked over me again and withdrew, a frown momentarily marring Casavir's handsome face. "I'll send someone to help you clean up," he said softly. "You should rest after that. There will be many people who will wish to speak with you. I'll make sure you're not disturbed until tomorrow."

I was surprised. I was expecting a lot more words from him that just this simple courtesy. "Thank you," I murmured. "Before you go, could you heal me? I would rest better with my skin intact."

He looked over me carefully, something like regret in his eyes. "I am afraid I can not my lady."

"Can not, or will not?" I called as he retreated towards the door

One hand on the handle, I heard him breathe deeply. "Will not." He left quietly, shutting the door softly behind him. I sat on the bed and wondered at his refusal. Always before he was quick to easy any hurt any of us had. Perhaps this was his way of getting back at me for going alone.

I didn't have time to ponder it long before the door opened again and Shandra walked in, directing a couple of footmen to place a copper tub near the fireplace in my room. Pail after pail of water was brought and dumped into the tub, the final footman muttering a small cantrip to heat the water to a comfortable temperature.

"I could have just gone to the bathing rooms," I said, watching the people parade in and out of my bedchamber.

"Casavir said you should wash in here. The pools would soak the stitches." I glanced at Shandra, her curt tone letting me know that she too wasn't pleased that I had gone off by myself.

"Strip," she commanded the moment the last servant left the room.

I gingerly pulled the shirt over my head and tossed it into a corner. The pants followed suit, landing on the discarded shirt in a bloodied heap. Shandra looked at me, the hard expression on her face softening as she glanced over the wounds. She shook her head. "Get in here and kneel." I did so, stepping into the warm water and sinking down, the water just reaching the top of my thighs. Picking up a ewer, she dumped it over my hair, soaking the matted dried blood. Water coursed down over my shoulders and chest, pink instead of clear. "What did you do, bathe in their blood?"

"Arterial spray. Open someone's neck when you're in front of them and it makes a mess," I said coolly.

She set the ewer down with a bang and grabbed the next one, empting it unceremoniously on my head. Spluttering, I wiped the water from my eyes and tried to glare at her. Grabbing my head she forced it forward. A hard bar of soap appeared in her hand and roughly she began rubbing it over my hair. Once she had a suitable lather she rinsed it and started the process all over again. It wasn't until the water ran clear and the water in the tub had turned a disturbing shade of rose that she finally stopped. My scalp felt raw from the harsh soap and the vigorous handling she had treated me to.

I eyed the soap warily as she scrubbed it across a sponge. "I take it you're mad at me as well."

"Mad, why should I be mad? Someone I care about ran off alone in the middle of the night on a suicide mission without letting anyone know where she was going. The only person she had to help her was a man who would sooner kill someone than give them a hand. We have to spend days wondering if she is alive or dead, and then she comes back carved up like a Winter Solstice roast!"

"It was something I needed to do alone," I said quietly. "You of all people should understand that."

"Well, I don't. When Ember was razed, every one of you helped to make sure justice was found. Never once did I feel like I needed to do it alone." She tossed the sponge into the water with a wet slap. "Gods, Kathrynn! You could have died out there! Did that ever occur to you?"

I smiled grimly and handed the sponge back to her. "Actually it did. Unfortunately, the 'give a shit' factor of that thought was rather low at the time. The only thing I was focusing on was vengeance being served up on the edge of my blades. None of you would have been able to understand that. Hells, it's our own good friend Casavir who says that true justice can not be served by the tip of a sword. He's wrong about that." My voice lowered to quiet adamancy. "Sometimes that's the only justice."

She sighed deeply and shifted to wash my back. "Just remember. If you die… We all die too. Without you, this King guy is going to run rampant and we aren't going to be able to stop him. Think about that next time you feel the need to run off on a suicide mission."

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feeling of the filth and ichor being cleansed from my skin. "Don't worry about that. I don't have any other homes to be attacked, no family to be slaughtered."

The scrubbing stopped. "You have family. You have us."

My faint smile was a little less grim this time. "I suppose I do."

*****

Sitting on the bed wrapped in a large towel, I watched as Shandra wrapped clean bandages around the broken stitches at my wrist. "Why didn't you have Casavir heal these?"

"I asked him to. He said he wouldn't. It's probably his way of getting back at me for going alone."

Shandra sniffed. "If you think that, you obviously don't know him very well."

"What do you mean?"

"If he's purposefully not healing you, it's not to make you suffer. That's more Bishop's cup of tea than his. You've heard him, he thinks you need time to grieve and recover from your loss. Time you won't take. Tell me, if you weren't injured, what would you be doing?"

I shrugged. "Planning the next step. Finding out who activated the fifth ritual and hunting them down."

"See? Exactly my point. You being injured will force you to slow down and reconcile yourself to what happened, maybe heal some of the wounds in your heart."

I chuckled mirthlessly. "Once scarred, nothing heals completely. You carry the marks with you where ever you go."

"Maybe if you stop ripping off the scabs, the scars won't be as bad as you think."

"Since when does a girl from a farm become a philosopher?"

"Since a girl from the swamps became a Knight-Captain."

*****

There were no dreams that night. No ghostly faces, no decaying fingers to haunt my slumber. When I awoke, I waited for the shroud of numbness to cover me, and it came as expected. This time though, it was less tangible than the day before. No matter what the others believed, I had been mourning this whole time. It just wasn't in a way they could understand.

I flipped the furs of my bed off of me and got up, the stone floor cold against my bare feet. Digging a tunic out of my trunk I slipped it on, noticing disinterestedly that it was much looser than when I wore it last, just a few weeks ago. Searching for some pants, I found a pair at the bottom of the pile. Hopefully they wouldn't dig into the cut to badly, at least until I could convince Casavir or the gith to heal me.

Of my armor, the only things still serviceable were the boots. The jerkin was long gone and the pants had too many cuts to be salvaged. On the boots went and I was ready to go. I opened my door just to come face to face with Neeshka, her hand raised to knock.

"Oh hi! Wow, you don't look half dead."

I raised an eyebrow. "Who said I was half dead?"

"The soldiers that were in the yard. They said you were all bloody and could barely walk. Oh… oh gods… I'm sorry. Your home…"

She trailed off and looked at me helplessly. "It's alright. It's been taken care of."

She grinned, her bubbly personality hard to be subdued for very long. "I bet. I mean, you and Bishop? Whoever did that certainly won't be doing it ever again. Wow, that must have been something to see. He doesn't have a mark on him, and you're not in to bad of shape either."

I held up a hand to stop her cheerfully bloodthirsty talk. "Sorry Neesh, I don't really want to talk about that right now. Did you need something?"

"Crap, I almost forgot. Casavir wanted me to tell you that the knight of the shinning hair is here to see you. He wanted to wake you up right when he got here, but Cas wouldn't let him. I couldn't believe it when he actually stood up to Nevalle."

"Where are they at now?"

She shrugged. "I think your office, but I'm not sure. I was just coming to see if you were awake yet. Nevalle is getting impatient and I actually think Cas is ready to physically restrain him if necessary."

"Then perhaps I should go down."

She looked at me, then realized she was standing in the door way. "Oops, sorry!" She stepped aside and let me pass.

I made my way toward the office Kana had designated for me. At the door I heard two low voices within. I stepped inside and the voices stopped abruptly. "I heard you wanted to see me Nevalle."

Both men stood. Casavir bowed slightly and left the room, leaving us alone. Sir Nevalle gestured for me to take a seat. _How gracious of him… Considering he's sitting behind my desk._

"Casavir told me what happened in West Harbor. You have my condolences."

I stared at him coolly. "That's why you rode hell for leather to get here? To offer condolences?"

A slight blush tinged his chiseled cheekbones. "I must admit when I heard you went missing in the middle of the night and didn't return with your companions, I was under the assumption you decided to leave. I came to salvage the situation."

"Really. Did it ever occur to you that perhaps I needed to take care of something? You just assumed that even after Ember, when my home was destroyed that I would cut and run?"

His lips tightened in displeasure. "In all fairness, no one was saying anything upon their return. West Harbor was never even mentioned in the dispatch. We had no way to know what had happened. All we were aware of was that you went on a mission and didn't return."

I snorted contemptuously. "You had no idea about West Harbor? An entire village gets wiped out and you don't know? I'm sorry, but I find that hard to swallow."

"I'm only telling you the truth."

"Then your information network sucks."

He took a deep breath. I could tell he was trying hard not to lose his temper with me. In a voice notably calmer than what his eyes were showing he asked, "Since you are back and from reports, returned wounded, am I to understand you found the ones who did this?"

"How am I to know what you understand?" I shrugged. "Your leaps of logic are beyond me. But yes, I found them."

"Who did it?"

"Am I to understand you didn't open the pouch Kana gave you?"

His glare was hard. "I've not had the time."

"Open it."

His eyes never leaving my face, he dug out the small pouch and cautiously opened it. Spilling the contents into the palm of his hand he finally glanced down. Seven bands of silver all bearing the same motif of a ring of daggers rested in his hand. Surprised, he looked from the bands to me.

I mimicked the haughty tone I've heard him use more than once before. "What? Perhaps you were expecting some sort of body part?" I made a little moue of distaste. "How uncouth. A true knight of Neverwinter would never be so barbaric as to display the head of his enemy like a trophy."

The bloom of color at his cheeks burned red. The way he watched me, I knew he realized I was making a jab to the last part of the punishment he had warned me about. I smiled to myself, rather pleased. Subtlety had never been my strong suit, yet in the case it seemed to be just what was required. He fought for control, his eyes the only thing showing the torrent of emotions that he had to be feeling.

When he spoke next, his tone, while still clipped with annoyance, sounded a little reluctantly impressed. "The Circle of Blades." He looked at me carefully. "You single handedly brought down seven of Luskan's elite assassins?"

"No. Not single handedly. Bishop helped."

"Bishop. The Luskan ranger who travels with you, yes?"

I nodded, watching as he played with one of the rings. "Of all the loyal people at your side, why him? You command much respect from your men, any would have assisted you. Why take the ranger with you? We know something of his past, much more than what he's probably told you." He casually set down the ring he was playing with. "He's not one you should trust."

Why I took Bishop over the others? That's something I really wasn't going to get in to with him. As for Nevalle's warning about the ranger, that was something I could answer. Leaning forward I picked up ring sitting at the edge of the desk and held it up to the light, examining the way the morning sun played off all the sharp edges. "Sometimes it takes a wolf to catch a wolf." I dropped the ring back in Nevalle's hand. "And sometimes, the wolf has reasons to go against his old pack mates."

Having said enough, I rose from the chair and headed to the door. Nevalle's curious question stopped me before I could leave. "Why _did_ you give these to me?" he asked, gazing thoughtfully at the little bits of silver.

My smile was pure ice. "You once called me a cowardly and honorless thief. I felt you needed to see that thief though I may be, cowardly and honorless is not who I am. One way or another, I take care of my own, Nevalle." I paused, letting my voice get softer and my eyes get harder. "Always."


	40. Chapter 40

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 40

"If someone doesn't take these damn stitches out, I'm going to do it myself!"

At the beginning of the week my demand were met with sympathetic looks and soothing words but no action. As the days dragged on and the demand became an increasingly louder reiteration, the sympathy graduated into annoyance and rolled eyes, and still no action.

I was standing in the middle of the dinning room, on the verge of stamping my foot and throwing a tantrum. I, the _Kalach-Cha, _shard-bearer, Knight-Captain, supposed savior of Faerûn, and gods knew how many other names, had enough of the idleness and the itching. Oh gods, the itching! It was driving me insane, making me revert back to when I lived in West Harbor and had the childhood spots. Elves were of course immune so Daeghun had no sympathy for me, knocking my hands away every time I went to scratch. The fits I threw were legendary and I was on the verge of throwing one again.

Hoping to ward off the oncoming storm, Casavir grabbed my arm and looked at the cut. "You're not healed yet Kathrynn. It's too soon for them to come out."

"Then heal me," I growled, letting my frustration show through.

"No." Casavir's voice was firm and unshakable. No amount of whining, bitching, or even moaning was going to get him to change his mind. I looked toward Zhjaeve, serenely eating her eggs and bacon.

"Know that I agree with the godsman, _Kalach-Cha_." Her expression was unmoved as well as she reached for another strip of the crispy fried pork.

I turned to the others. "Come on, any of you, for old times sake?"

Khelgar and Neeshka looked down, suddenly very interested in their breakfast. Walking into the room carrying another platter of bacon, Shandra heard my words and did an immediate about-face, retreating back into the kitchen. "Oh, please, would someone just heal her so she shuts up?" Qara snapped. "I'd rather listen to Sand than hear her bitch anymore."

Sand. I looked at him expectantly. "Just a few potions and this could all be over," I said reasonably. He raised a brow at me, my efforts of being convincing obviously wasted on him. "I'll get you that book you were wanting." Where reason didn't work, bribery was just as good. I could tell he was wavering until he looked from me to Casavir. He sighed. "I'm sorry my dear. It is for the best that you take some time to rest."

I glared at each of them in turn and stalked from the room. They didn't want to help me? Fine. I'd do it myself. All the sympathetic looks and tip-toeing around me was getting pretty damn old. The sooner I had these stitches out and healed, the sooner we all could go back to normal. The others seemed to take my injuries as a reminder of what had happened. I certainly didn't need a reminder; the image was permanently etched into my mind. What I needed was to move on with my life.

Back in my room with the door shut firmly behind me, I grabbed a dagger off of the night stand and plopped down on the bed. With my sleeve rolled up I set the razor sharp point of the blade against my skin and carefully sliced through the stitches one by one. The thread gave give an audible pop as each one snapped, leaving two black strands on each side. Half of my arm done, I set the blade down and grabbed a hanging thread. Tugging slowly I pulled it out my flesh, shuddering as I felt it moving under my skin. Setting the bloody strand on the bed next to me I moved to the next one. Each time I tugged, I had to stop the shudders and the bit of nausea that was rising.

I snorted to myself. I could calmly kill another human being and could have gapping wounds on my body, but the feel of something moving under my skin was a bit much for me. I added the last cut thread to the pile and picked up the dagger again when the door opened suddenly. Like a child caught doing something they were told not to, I jumped guiltily. Unfortunately, unlike a child, I happened to be holding the tip of a knife against the tender skin of my wrist at the time.

"Sonofabitch!" I looked down at the bright red blood welling up from the newly made cut. Exasperated, I looked up to see who walked in. Bishop stood in the doorway watching with interest as I pressed against the skin, trying to stop the bleeding.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to take those out."

"It's only been three days," I muttered. "Besides, they hid all the healing potions. They think I need time to 'heal' from what happened in West Harbor." With a shrug I picked up the dagger from where I dropped it and started in on the next set of stitches.

"Do you?"

"That's an odd question coming from you."

"Humor me."

I shrugged again. "No. I don't need time to heal. You were there with me, you know what happened. Personally I think I've 'come to grips with my loss', as Elanee likes to put it, rather nicely. Nothing like a bloodbath to make you feel better."

"Keep trying Kitten. It almost sounds like you've convinced yourself." His voice was dry and mocking and he entered fully, shutting the door before leaning on it, effectively trapping me in the room.

Unafraid, I didn't even bother glancing up from my work. "What makes you think I'm not telling the truth? I let you see what I'm capable of and suddenly you think you know me?" As unconcerned as I was, I was still exceedingly aware of every silky move he made across the large room toward me.

"I saw your eyes back in your little swamp village. I saw your pain." He stopped in front of me and crouched down beside the bed when I refused to meet his eyes. "The anger covers the pain doesn't it? Makes it all go away. Makes you feel invincible." I sat in silence and stared at him as he continued. "I saw the pleasure in your eyes when you killed those men, pleasure you won't even let yourself believe you felt." His eyes filled my vision until all I saw were amber orbs and all I heard was the sound of his low gravely voice as he delved into my psyche, ripping it apart carelessly, destroying the carefully constructed blocks as easily as a gnomish demolition team does a building.

"It felt good didn't it? Their blood on your skin. The way the flesh gave under your blades. They hurt you and you hurt them." He took the dagger from my loose fingers and took my wrist in his hand, his thumb brushing over the cuts, old and new. "And now you're injured. Tell me Kitten, what's the real reason you haven't pushed harder to be healed?"

The soft tone was putting me more on edge that anything else he was doing. He was up to something, but I just didn't know what. I had a feeling that Bishop like this was when he was at his most dangerous. So I said nothing and waited as a muscle jumped nervously in my jaw.

"This pain reminds you that you're human, that you aren't one of them. It makes you believe that there is a price for taking human lives, even if they needed taking. Guess what?" His thumb stopped its casual brush over my wrist and dug into the fresh cut. I gasped in pain at the digging and felt the blood flow anew down my skin. "There is no price, and this pain is just weakness. Stop lying to yourself. You liked killing them and it scares you."

I tried to wrench my wrist free but his grip was just too strong. "What do you want from me Bishop? What do you want me to admit that's so important to you?"

"See, that's where you're wrong. It's not important to me. But it should be to you. The lies are just going to eat you up until you become useless. Never feel guilt and never second guess yourself."

I glared at him, thinking quickly. This analytical side of Bishop was new, and he wasn't doing it for my benefit. Why then? Why did he want me to say I liked killing those men? The only thing I could think of was that he wanted me to be more like him, something he could understand. Or maybe he just didn't want to be the only one who didn't feel remorse…

I didn't share my conclusion with him. The intense look in his eyes was frightening, a mix of anger, hate, desire, and the slightest hint of desperation made for a most unstable blend. "You know I'm telling the truth and you're scared," he said lowly, leaning forward and taking a long breath along the skin of my neck. "I can smell it." Raising my wrist to his mouth his tongue ran slowly over the bleeding cut. "I can taste it."

He missed no detail, including how my breath hitched and my already rapid pulse sped up under his tongue. It flicked out for a last taste before he stood up. "Take off your shirt," he ordered.

That startled me out of the haze of fear, desire and anger that was clouding my mind. "Excuse me?"

Mood as mercurial as always, he gestured calmly with my dagger. "You won't be able to get those stitches out by yourself, so take off your shirt."

I blinked rapidly, trying to take in the sudden change. I would think I should be used to it by now; his mood was always as constant as the shifting sands under the ocean. But going from his warm lips on my wrist and a hot look in his eyes to a cold dispassion in the space of seconds was just too odd even for him.

I must have waited to long because he made to toss the dagger down. "Suit yourself."

"Wait," I said, torn between confusion and a desire to get the itchy stitches out. I made a decision swiftly. Reaching to the hem of the shirt, I lifted it swiftly over my head and tossed it to the foot of the bed. Cheeks burning slightly, I met his eyes boldly, daring him to say anything. The only indication he even gave that he noticed me as a topless woman was the sudden tightening of his jaw.

"Lay on your side," he commanded, his voice only slightly more raspy than before. I did so slowly, my gaze never leaving his face. Propping my head up with my hand, I warily waited for him to come to me, dagger in hand. He approached the bed and set the very edge of the cold metal against my skin. I shivered, partly from fear, and partly from excitement. With a flick of his wrist the thread fell open in his path.

I felt calloused fingers brush over the sensitive skin of my side, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake. With a slow tug, the first strand was pulled out. For some reason, the discomfort that I felt when pulling them out myself wasn't present this time. Instead my skin just felt warm and tingly.

His hands were deft but in no way swift. It was as if he was enjoying watching the myriad of expressions that crossed over my face with each purposeful movement. I closed my eyes to hide the heady combination of pain and pleasure, fear and excitement, and no small amount of anger and lust that I knew he could see in them. After several long and heavy minutes I felt the knife move away from my side and felt the warmth of his hands fade as he pulled back.

"On your back." I opened by eyes at the husky command and looked down my ribs. Skin showed pink and new, remarkably neat considering what it looked like originally. With a glance down the long trail, I saw he had completed my side and needed to start on the part that played over my abdomen to disappear into my leather pants.

Rolling to my back I met his gaze. His eyes were dark and hooded and he looked at me boldly, moving over me in a heated caress. Despite my mind's orders, my nipples hardened under his hot gaze. Fighting a blush, and trying to keep my breathing from speeding up, I tried to convince myself that this was no different that any other time I was injured. He was just trying to heal me so we could continue our quest. _Yeah, right._

His eyes roamed over my stomach and came to rest of the laces of my leather leggings. He would have to undo them to take out the stitches just as he had to undo them to put them in. I watched as his face tensed and he made an unwilling noise that from someone else I would almost think was a hard swallow.

In the time it took for him to pry his eyes back to my face again, his own was carefully arranged back into his normal mask. He causally tossed the dagger on the bed beside me. "I'm done being your nursemaid, Captain," he said with a sneer. "Do the rest yourself."

He backed away from the bed more swiftly than an indifferent man might. I don't know what it was; perhaps a desire to push at him physically like he pushed at me mentally or perhaps it was just an imp on my shoulder that made me stand up and stalk slowly over to him. Standing in front of him, my bare skin still tingling from his touch, I cupped his jaw in my hands. With my breasts rubbing against his chest, I pressed a slow kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for your help Bishop," I whispered in his ear.

I sensed more than saw his hand clench in to tight fists as I turned away. I could feel his eyes burning through me as I retreated slowly back to the bed. As I picked up the abandoned dagger, I heard the clink of glass on wood and the door shutting swiftly. A glance over my shoulder revealed a now empty room, with one exception. Two small vials of potent healing magic currently sat on the edge of my previously empty desk. Knife in hand, I grinned to myself and with a small laugh began to finish the job Bishop had started.


	41. Chapter 41

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 41

The tavern was laid out before me like a tableau of life. Over in the corner a soldier pulled a giggling buxom barmaid onto his lap and whispered things into her ear that just made her girlish laugh become all the more coquettish In the opposite corner another group of soldiers laughed uproariously and chanted encouragement as Khelgar and two of their comrades attempted to drink each other under the table. By the fire, an argument was breaking out between a man and a woman, husband and wife as another woman stood by and looked bored. The bored woman caught the eye of another man and with a beckoning smile, led the eager young farmer up the stairs to the rooms above. So involved in their own argument, the husband and wife didn't even notice the source of their current discontentment had disappeared.

Drowning out the words, but not their angry faces an amateur fiddler played a lively tune for the dancers on the floor. And on the floor, now that was interesting. Neeshka seemed to have found herself an admirer in a handsome guard I remembered seeing a few times before outside the war room. They leapt and danced to the country song as if they hadn't a care in the world, Neeshka's playfulness evident in the amount the two were laughing.

Elanee and Shandra sat with me, idly listening to Deeken tell a tale to a small group of children of how a human sorceress and a red haired tiefling saved Neverwinter from the hordes of the Underdark. The little kobold bard was finishing his story as my eyes continued to wander aimlessly over the crowd.

"You seem preoccupied." Elanee's soft voice said close to my ear.

I shrugged. "Just itchy I guess."

The corners of her mouth twitched down. "I thought you had removed the stitches. Against your healer's wishes," she reproved, her frown deepening ever so slightly.

"Itchy as in restless." I said dryly. "I don't like this waiting."

"Oh." She looked confused for a moment, as if turning the human colloquialism over in her head before it clicked into place. "Ah."

"Personally, I don't mind the waiting. I mean, I haven't even seen my grandfather since I was a child and now I'm supposed to go to some mythical hideout of his? Not something I'm looking forward to."

"Come on Shandra, maybe grandpappy is still there. It would be a nice family reunion."

She snorted. "I should hope he's not there. He was old when I was young, so he would be nearly ancient now. Almost a hundred."

Elanee looked affronted. "I am over two centuries old and no where near ancient."

"Of course you're ancient. You're a veritable crone. Why I can hardly make out your features through all those wrinkles."

The elf raised an eyebrow, not even marring the satiny smooth skin of her forehead.

The three of us shared a grin before Shandra looked at me carefully. "You seem like you're feeling better. More your old self, but still different. If that makes any sense."

I lifted my empty mug. "Perhaps it will after another of these." I stood and turned to the bar. "Anyone else want a refill?"

Elanee declined but Shandra handed me her empty tankard with a big, somewhat inebriated grin. A couple of elbow nudges got me to the bar. The barkeep looked up with a quick nod, letting me know he was coming as soon as he could. Sal, having wanted a change of pace after working for Duncan for so long had opened this tavern as soon as the repairs had finished and had done a brisk business ever since.

He refilled the mugs with a deft hand and slid them back to me. I made my way back to our table trying to keep the sloshing to a minimum. As I approached I noticed the other two were glancing at the upper portion of the tavern where the inn rooms were kept and where the light skirts conducted their business.

I set the mugs down and licked at some of the foamy beer that had sloshed over on to my hand. "What's up?"

They turned guilty faces to me and looked decidedly uncomfortable. "What?" I repeated.

Wordlessly Shandra pointed to the balcony landing. A familiar leather clad form tossed a coin to the disheveled woman in the doorway before turning to glare over the railing. Candlelight from the high stag horn chandeliers glinted off maple colored hair. My gut clenched hard but I forced a smile. "Well," I said lightly, "maybe he'll be less of a - What was it you called him Shandra? Oh right, less of a pissy little bitch now."

She ignored my attempt at humor. "Are you alright?" she asked seriously.

I took a deep drink from my mug and set it down a little harder than necessary. "Sure I'm alright." _Am I alright? I'll be alright as soon as I go up those stairs toss him over the edge and rip the wench's hair out. And if I still don't feel alright, then dunking her ugly painted face in the horse trough outside will go a long way in fixing that. _"Why wouldn't I be?" I asked, too brightly.

Shandra gave me skeptical eyes while Elanee continued to watch the scene upstairs. "Bishop appears angry," she said calmly, staring as if watching an odd animal in a zoo. "And the girl looks a little like you."

Shandra immediately jumped in. "No she doesn't. Kathrynn is much prettier. She's got dark hair and she's short, but that's the only similarities."

"Thanks," I muttered dryly.

Bishop was coming down the stairs now, glaring hateful daggers at anyone stupid enough to get in his way. I caught myself doing some glaring of my own and forced my face to relax. Anger and jealousy swirled together in my stomach in a hard unpleasant knot.

"He's heading this way," Shandra whispered urgently.

"Of course he is," was Elanee's logical reply. "We took the table by the door."

"Oh, you just don't get it, do you?"

I barely heard them since I was to busy tracking his progress across the crowded floor. I almost hoped he would do something, start some kind of a fight with someone on his way out the door just so I had an excuse to haul him out of there and pound his face into the ground. He drew closer without incident so I just raised my glass in a salute. His face was dark with anger and at the casual gesture it turned thunderous.

His hair was tousled and my fingers itched to wrap around the neck of a certain short dark haired girl. Instead I just gripped my mug harder until the smooth wood threatened to crack. I managed a cool smile. "Enjoying yourself?" I bit my cheek hard to keep anything other than that polite question from spewing forth. Coppery blood coated my tongue before I realized just how hard I was clenching my teeth.

His eyes weren't cold for once. They were hot now, hot with unsated lust, hot with raging anger and right now they were directed at me. "No." His answer was a guttural snarl. The force of his rage took me aback for a moment then inexplicably the hot knot in my own stomach eased. The desire to grind certain people under my boot heels faded as well.

My cool smile changed to a smirk. "Oh, that's too bad." I couldn't help the coo I heard in my voice. His mouth opened to say something but he just growled a curse under his breath and shoved one of the men-at-arms that was blocking the door out of the way. The soldier took one look at the man doing the pushing and moved as quickly as possible to get out of his path.

I was feeling downright cheery now. I took a pleased swallow from my battered mug as Shandra tried to explain what just happened to a rather confused druid.

*****

Morning came far too swiftly and the pounding on the door was much too loud for my liking. I groaned and pulled the furs up over my head. Perhaps if I ignored the door long enough, whoever it was would just go away. The pounding echoed in my head and I peeked an eye out from under the covers warily. Blinking bleary eyes at the harsh blinding light of early winter that shone in through my window, I looked around. Sand was standing in my room looking entirely vexed. The pounding continued and it took me several seconds to realize that the pounding wasn't on my door, but was actually my head throbbing painfully.

I groaned again. Last night's scene at the tavern had actually degraded after Bishop had left. Shandra, Elanee and I had sat at our table consuming mass quantities of alcohol and complaining about men in general until Sal actually threw us out. Well, Shandra and I consumed and talked; Elanee just sipped her wine and watched us thoughtfully.

"Get up girl, you're late."

I winced and made a shooshing gesture. "Quietly please," I whispered.

"Not you too. I swear you humans have the alcohol tolerance of a gnat."

I flopped back over and pulled the furs back over my head and hid in the darkness there. They were ripped unceremoniously out of my hands and my world filled with painful light again. "I hate you."

"Good. Now get up. You're needed in the war room." He glanced down at me. "At least you're dressed already."

I had fallen directly onto the top of my bed when I had come in and some time during the night had burrowed under the covers like a mole seeking warmth. I never even bothered getting undressed.

Sand's delicate nose sniffed and made an expressive little wrinkle. "Be a good little captain and after the meeting I'll make you something to take care of the hangover. Gods know if I don't the lot of you humans will be useless all day." He muttered the last part to himself and he reached for the door to hold it open.

As he stood there making little hurrying waving gestures with his long slim fingers, I hauled myself in the sitting position. It took several minutes of perching there with my eyes shut for the world to stop spinning. Getting to my feet was interesting but I was finally able to walk, albeit very slowly. Sand grabbed my arm as we walked down the halls, half supporting me, half dragging me. The skinny little elf was stronger than he looked and in short order I found myself propelled through the top levels of the keep were our rooms were and down to the ground floor into the war room.

Almost everyone was around the table already. I couldn't tell if Shandra was as bad off as I was since she had planted her face on the tabletop and was trying hard to pretend that she was back in bed. Elanee was calm and collected as usual and Neeshka had a certain little glow in her cheeks and a telling swish in her tail. She gave me a lecherous wink and I tried to laugh but stopped when my head pounded with each chuckle.

Sand set me down in a seat and took the chair to my right. Qara was directly across from me looking petulant at being summoned at what to her was an unnaturally early hour. "I don't even know why I'm here," she complained loudly. Seeing my wince at the sound of her voice, she pitched it even louder. "Why should I have to get up and come to your stupid meetings? You never take me anywhere. I'm always stuck in this rat infested keep or in some filthy tavern."

My fuzzy brain managed to latch on to the last part. "Rats? What rats? I thought we took care of those."

"Well you didn't," she huffed. "They are in my room almost every night hiding under the bed." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Neeshka look away, her shoulders shaking with silent snickers. "And," she continued, her voice nearly a screech at the indignities she had to suffer, "they keep going into my closest and chewing little holes in my robes!"

This time it was Khelgar who looked away, his face turning red as if he was holding back explosive laughter. I rubbed at my temples carefully. "Anything else?"

"_Someone_ seems to think it's funny to magically lock the bathroom door whenever I enter so that I can't get out." Sand's face never changed expression even as she stared hatefully at him. "And _someone_ might just find all of his precious books incinerated if it happens again."

I waved a hand to silence Sand's angry retort. "Qara, do you honestly think Sand would so something so childish," I looked around the table meaningfully, "as locking you in the bathroom? Maybe the door is just faulty."

"I know magic when I see it," she snapped. "He's the only other one who can cast that spell."

"Maybe, but he's not the only one who can cast it from a scroll. Besides, why would he do something so that obviously points to him?" This warranted another significant look around the table. Most of them were trying not to laugh and even Casavir was shaking his head and hiding a smile. I was proud of myself. Though it was like trying to think through a bowl of porridge this morning, my logic sounded pretty good to me.

Qara opened her mouth to retort but Casavir cut her off. His deep voice that was usually a pleasure to listen to was anything but today. It was like a war drum beating in my brain and I couldn't help a little moan as I rubbed my temples feverishly. "Can we just finish this please? I just want to go back to bed."

"Bishop isn't here yet."

Khelgar shrugged. "He wasn't in his room this morning, and his bed wasn't slept in."

"You might want to get a cure disease spell ready if he was with that woman all night," I heard Shandra whisper to Elanee. She looked guiltily at me as soon as she said it though.

Zhjaeve, who had sat by quietly during all of this watching with interest finally spoke. "I have spoken with the sage at great lengths as of late. He has managed to piece together where Jerro's haven is."

It was silent as we all took in this important news. The next hour was filled with excited voices and plans being made. At the end of it I stood and proclaimed that we would leave tomorrow at first light. Until then we all were to go about our preparations.

Shandra and my first preparation was to follow Sand dutifully to his workshop to choke down some horrible concoction that he swore would make us feel better.

After much spluttering and coughing I peered down into the glass suspiciously. "Did you purposefully make this taste like it was filtered with Khelgar's shortclothes?"

"What ever would make you say that my dear?"

His voice was innocent, but I couldn't help the nagging feeling that I detected an evil little twinkle in his eyes.

*****

A few days on the road and several dead elementals were but a memory as we stood in front of the massive stone doors of Jerro's haven. A huge metal guardian waited impassively for us to give him the correct key before we could enter.

I handed Shandra a small dagger. "This one is razor sharp. It won't hurt."

Shandra took it nervously. She stood staring at it for a long while. "I can do it for you if you want." I offered gently. She shook her head.

"Sorry," she said. "I've been cut before, but I've never done it, you know, on purpose."

Casavir placed his hands on her shoulders. My skin prickled pleasantly as he pushed the gently pulsing aura that surrounded him like a cloak out to envelope Shandra as well. I caught only the merest brush and immediately I felt warm and safe. I could just image what she was feeling.

She smiled up at him, more at ease now. "Thanks."

He smiled back at her and squeezed her shoulders gently. "You are very brave my lady."

Shandra blushed and turned away to hide it. She raised my little dagger and with a soft hiss, drew it swiftly over her palm. Blood welled up thick and dark. Keeping her hand cupped as to not spill a drop she approached the pedestal by the guardian. "I hope this is enough," she muttered dryly. In a steady red stream it poured from her hand and splashed into the stone bowl. We all watched as the last drop dripped from her skin and hung for the tiniest moment suspended in mid air. Our eyes followed its fateful path. It splashed like all the rest into the little puddle at the bottom of the basin.

"It's done," Shandra said. Before the words had even finished echoing on the air, she puffed completely and utterly out of existence.


	42. Chapter 42

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 42

Ammon Jerro; warlock, devil dealer, kin slayer had managed to open up a portal that dropped us right outside the Keep gates. The guards are duty were startled when the air shimmered and out popped Khelgar, checking to make sure the portal had actually opened in friendly territory. Casavir and Sand followed closely after he gestured the all clear, a bound and magically gagged older man trussed between the two of them. I came through the portal last.

The gates were opened as we waited in silence. Khelgar looked up at me and I noticed numbly that a few tears had cleaned a salty path down his blood splattered cheeks. He cleared his throat before he was able to speak. His voice was thick with tears and anger made his burr so pronounced that it took a minute to translate what he said. "What now?"

I looked at everyone, Khelgar's hand twisting fitfully on his axe, the muscle jumping in Sand's jaw, Casavir's dark blue eyes nearly black with emotion. I purposefully skipped looking at _him._ "Casavir, take him someplace out of the way and chain him until I can speak with him." I stared at the paladin and said quietly, "If I have to see him before then, I'll slit his throat myself."

For once he didn't say anything to that cruel and honest statement. I turned swiftly and strode through the gates. Guards backed out of my way and even Kana who was coming down to find out how the journey went and why we were back so soon, took one look at my face and turned the other direction. I could sense Sand following a discrete distance behind me, a quick shake of his head warning anyone who would get in my way.

I made it to my room without any stops on the way. Shutting the door firmly behind me I leaned heavily on the sturdy desk and dropped my head. The weight on my shoulders was suffocating and the icy rage that came with it was warming, bubbling up within me. My hands gripped the edge of the table, my nails biting into the wood painfully. The glacial calm that had protected my heart ever since my return to West Harbor shattered painfully.

Part of my mind separated and watched dispassionately as a mad woman roared her rage in loud wordless screams, ripping up the heavy desk and knocking it over. It wasn't enough. The creature wanted to break, rend, kill, hurt. The bed clothing was next, then the feathered mattress being ripped apart by bare hands. An ornately carved wooden chair was dashed against the wall until it smashed into pieces. A thick stoneware ewer shattered against the stone.

The tinkling of mirror pieces as they landed on the floor brought me back to myself. I froze amidst the chaos, my breath coming in hard gasps. My throat was raw and my nails were ripped and bloody. Copious tears were streaming down my face and my knees gave out. I sat in the center of all the destruction I had created, all the death that was on my head, and finally let myself cry.

*****

Day turned to night and night to morning. I sat there in the same position for the whole of it. I watched the sunrise with dull eyes. There were no more tears left. Those had all been used up. I was feeling as limp as wrung out towel, but I was calm again. That dark pit that had opened in me when my home was destroyed swallowed down my pain and rage greedily. The emotional loss left me feeling cold, but able to function again.

I heard the door attempt to open behind me. It stopped when it hit the upturned table. A pause then a hard shove had the wood scraping noisily across the floor. I didn't turn around. "Leave me." My voice was steady, but raspy from its harsh use the previous day.

"You're still alive." Neeshka's voice was thick.

"So I am."

"You know, once you stopped screaming, some of us - them thought you might have tried to kill yourself last night."

"Can't. Too much to do." I left out the part of last night where I had turned a blade over and over in my hands and considered doing just that.

"We didn't come up because Casavir told us not to. He said you needed time."

"It's fine."

"I… I just didn't want you to think we're ignoring you."

"Neesh, it's fine, alright?"

I heard her shifting her weight back and forth uncomfortably. "We're hurting too," she whispered miserably.

All my muscles tensed until a series of fine tremors ran over my skin. I choked on the need to scream at her. _They're hurting? They aren't the ones who got her killed. They aren't the ones with bodies piling up like mountains around them. _Instead, like a good leader, I took several breaths before I opened my mouth. "I know, but right now, I just need to be alone. Please."

"Alright." Her voice choked up as she started to leave. "I'm supposed to tell you that Casavir and Khelgar recovered Shandra's bo... We are going to have the funeral at dusk."

The door shut gently behind her before I needed to answer.

*****

They buried her in the little restored temple inside the gates. Leaning against my window I could see it all. I could even see a distinctive glowing bald head from my vantage. My bow was at hand and I fingered the smooth wood curves thoughtfully. It might be possible to make the shot if I was very careful.

I heard the door open to my room and quietly shut again. Everyone who should be at the funeral was there, which left only one person to be here with me.

"Welcome back. You missed quite a show. You would have enjoyed it."

"Shandra. Yeah." He gave a little grunt. "It must be hunting season for the people you care about. They're dropping like flies."

I was past the point where anything Bishop could say would hurt me. It wasn't anything I hadn't told myself already anyways.

"You scared?" I asked without turning around, though my hand fell away from the bow.

He left his position at the door and picked his way carefully across the rubble strewn floor. Coming over to the window ledge, he leaned against the wall to look out with me. "I'm safe. You're not stupid enough to try to care about me."

"Damn right," I agreed.

We stood in silence for a while. "You wouldn't be able to make the shot."

"I might."

He snorted. "I've seen you shoot."

"Hrmph."

Bishop's voice was low and nonchalant. It sounded like he was making a statement even though I knew the offer when I heard it. "I could make it."

The offer was tempting. So tempting I could taste its sweetness on my tongue. It would be so simple. A silent arrow shaft slicing through air and my personal scales would start to balance once more. It took a supreme force of will to release the sweet and swallow the bitterness of practicality instead. "He knows things. I need him alive." I paused as the shovelfuls of dirt started to rain down on the simple casket that had been hastily constructed. "For now."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him glance at me for the first time. I knew what he was seeing. There used to be a large mirror handing from my wall. It now lay on the floor, shattered into hundreds of pieces. I had caught my fragmented reflection in it earlier and noticed the deeply shadowed eyes, the unnatural pallor of my skin. I looked like a wraith.

"The farm girl was weak. She would have died sooner or later. Her type always do."

"What type is that?"

"Followers. People content to tag along after someone else, fight other people's battles. They're not willing to do what's necessary to survive."

"Not everyone wants to lead people."

"Leaders are just as bad," he scoffed. "They're just followers with a bigger ego."

"If you don't follow and you don't lead, what's left?"

"Freedom."

I grunted, but couldn't find any disagreement with that answer. How many times have I wanted to throw off the shackles that bound me? Even now all I wanted was to disappear from this whole mess. But I started this and I would finish it. Then live or die, I would finally be utterly free as well.

The silence was stretching out. I said the first thing that popped into my head. "Is this conversation just a round about way of saying it wasn't my fault?"

That got another snort. "No. It is your fault. If you hadn't been on this shit pile of a quest, she would still be alive, still living on that pitiful farm. She's dead because you needed something from her and you got it."

_Ouch. So much for thinking nothing he could say could hurt._ I was stung. It was one thing to say it to yourself, and another to have someone else acknowledge your greatest fears to your face.

His voice roughened, as if his next words came out against his will. "Or maybe she would be dead anyway. Her farm would have been raided again whether or not she had ever met you. She would have been cut down like a sheep. At least the death you gave her allowed her to be useful."

Leather scraped against stone as he shifted in the window sill. "Get used to it Kitten. You keep leading, and they'll follow until every last one of them is dead."

I had already spent a day and a half wrapped up in grief. All my tears had been shed and every possible 'what if' had already played through my head. That was the only thing that kept me from swinging at him or breaking down into pathetic sobs. He was being inhumanly practical, but he was right. That didn't make the barbed words hurt any less though.

"What about you?" I lashed out. "You're still here, still following. Does that mean you're willing to stay behind me till I lead you to your death?"

"I would never die for you, for anyone. Try to make me and we'll see just who is breathing at the end of the day. But you knew that already and you know why I'm here."

"Don't give me any 'debt' bullshit. If Duncan's hold over you was that strong, you would have just killed him already. So tell me, free man, why are you following?"

He moved behind me faster than I could blink. One arm trapped both mine at my sides and the other calloused hand reached around to grip my throat. It had been two days since I've eaten and just as many since I've slept. I belatedly realized that taunting him was more deadly than normal. His hand squeezed down on my windpipe, not hurting, just enough to make breathing difficult. My attempts at struggling were failed mockery of what they should have been. The more I tried to get free the tighter his grip became until spots started to form in the edge of my vision.

I was going to die. I knew it would happen soon than later, but I honestly never thought it would be as ignobly as this. Body and brain were screaming _fight_ but my will was saying something else. In the midst of the listening to my blood rush in my head, I had a thought. A sudden thought and desire so crystal clear it made me freeze. _If I die, all the pain will stop._

A part of me was hoping he would kill me. Kill me and quiet the gnawing emptiness in me. Despair reared its head and with teeth dripping soul-shredding venom, it threatened to consume me. I was ready to open my arms to it.

No.

I would not go meekly into its maw. I would not commit suicide by ranger. There were always paths open to those creative enough to make them and I suddenly had the will to pave a damn road. I stopped my struggles and painfully released the tension in my adrenalin charged muscles.

As he felt my body relax against his hard chest his hand loosened incrementally until it was back to just uncomfortable. Warm breath tickled my neck when he leaned in to whisper, "Sometimes people follow because the best place to attack from is behind." He kept me trapped and waited as I drew in deep breaths, probably wanting my reaction. Distracted by my racing thoughts and the epiphanies that came with it, it took a moment to realize he was answering my earlier question.

He had done far more for me than just giving me the expected non-answer. In trying to murder me, he may have just saved my life.

I leaned against him as I contemplated that. Then, in one of those inane thoughts people have at the wrong times, I noticed he smelled like forest and wood smoke. When he moved his head, the ever present stubble on his jaw dragged against my skin. It was coarse but not scratchy.

Bishop released me and stepped back. I rubbed at my throat and turned to look him over carefully. "You need to shave," I said calmly though my voice came out hoarser than before.

Confusion flicked across his face and was gone in an instant. He huffed out a breath and shook his head slowly. Whatever he was expecting from me – violence, tears maybe – that certainly wasn't it.

We stared at each other for a long heavy moment. "Would you have finished it?" Morbid curiosity forced me to ask finally.

"A woman with a death wish is no use to me."

I managed a tired sardonic smile. "You have such interesting ways of getting your point across."

He ignored my comment and glanced around the room. "Nice work," he said, changing the subject as his eyes took in the broken bits of furniture and the feathers everywhere. I looked around with him and a wave of exhaustion hit me. I would need to put all this to right before I could sleep. The adrenaline from the struggle and the sudden insights had been carrying me up to this point, and quick as a lightning strike it was all gone.

I sagged against the wall. The thought of cleaning all this up was too overwhelming right now. "I didn't like how it was decorated," I muttered as I slid down the wall. I ended up sitting uncomfortably on some broken pieces of chair, but I was too tired to move them. My head leaned back and my eyes closed. "I need to sleep now Bishop," I said with a yawn.

The wall was cold and solid against my skull, but right now it was just perfect. Sleep was creeping up on me quickly, but there was something else I wanted to tell him. "I'm glad you aren't willing to die for me." The words were slurred and hard to get out. "Would be an awful waste."

I don't know if I managed to finish speaking or not because within seconds, I was asleep.


	43. Chapter 43

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 43

The gnawing hunger in my stomach woke me some time around dawn. I slid my lids over dry scratchy eyes and pushed at the furs nestled around my shoulders. That brought a frown. I was in a bed, but it couldn't have been my own. The mattress was soft under me and the furs where piled warmly and thickly above. I vaguely remembered my own mattress was in shreds and pieces of it had littered the floor before I had fallen asleep.

Sitting up, a quick scan of the room showed what appeared to be one of the several extra bedchambers. It was just like all the others, but the dust cloths were still draped over the tables and chairs. There was a faintly musty scent, as if this room had been closed up for a while, maybe even when Garius had used the keep, but the bedding and furs were clean. Someone must have found me asleep and put me to bed. I highly doubted it was Bishop, and not many of the others would be able to carry me without me noticing. Casavir probably, or one of the men at arms.

The window was open in an attempt to air out the room and the light breeze brought early winter chill. Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I winced as bare feet touched cold stone. Whoever had brought me in here had thoughtfully removed my boots and set them neatly on the floor within reach. Tugging them on, I got up from the warm nest. I shivered in the cold air. Pulling the largest skin from the bottom of pile, I wrapped it around me fur first. It was still warm from my body heat, and the soft hair gently tickled my face as I moved.

The corridor was empty with the exception of two foot men struggling to bring a new mattress up the curving stairs as quietly as possible. I pressed myself against the wall so they could pass and then watched as they disappeared into the furthest room with it, my room.

When I reached the kitchen, it was already bustling. Cooks and their assistance moved in choreographed chaos to get food ready to feed hundreds of hungry military men, not to mention the untold number of people who worked in less militant positions. One of the spitboys saw me and said a quick word. All conversation stopped for a moment before a robust woman, the head cook most likely, cleared her throat loudly. Everyone went back to their work, only a few sneaking glances my way. The large woman, Franka, I vaguely remembered, came over to me carrying a hastily put together plate of eggs, a fresh crumbly cheese and a slice of hot bread.

"Here you go your ladyship; you set yourself by the fire and eat up." She said gently as she led me to the huge hearth the indicated a stool sitting by. I sat; the fur still gripped tightly at my throat, and balanced the plate on my lap. The food was simple, but good. It had been so long since I had eaten, that even the most humble fare would have tasted like everquist.

I got through half the plate before I had enough. Handing it to a passing boy, I nodded my thanks to Franka. She glanced at the still partially full plate and frowned, but said nothing. Setting the plate to the side, she made a little shooing gesture and I skedaddled out of her domain.

I found myself heading out to the courtyard. In the distance, I could see a dark haired figure going slowly through motions of battle forms. My feet propelled me over to the training yard and I watched the graceful movements in silence. At the reduced speed, they seemed more like a dance than anything else and without the bulky armor, there was a fluidity that one normally didn't see. Casavir finished and turned to me.

"You're up earlier than normal."

"I could not sleep."

Neither of us said anything because there wasn't anything to say to that. We both knew what we had loss.

We both started to speak at once. "Have you-" "I know that-" Casavir gestured for me to go first.

"I know you're probably going to take me to task that I didn't come down for the funeral."

He shook his head. "Actually, I was just going to make sure you've eaten something," he replied gently.

"I just got something." I stared off into the distance focusing on anything except for man in front of me. He tended to see far too much and there were some things about the past few days that I just wasn't ready to talk about. "He was there," I said flatly when the silence had dragged out.

"She was his family. It would have been wrong to refuse."

"She was not _his_ family. She was our family. He disappeared out her life long ago. His first re-entry into it in decades and he murders her."

"Yes."

"Yes? Just yes? This is where a paladin would normally tell me how it was all just a horrible misunderstanding, an accident and that I should understand that."

"Perhaps it that is what I should say, but I am man under my training, and Shandra was important to me as well."

I risked a look into his oh so blue eyes. They were dark and turbulent with well hidden pain. "It was hard for you to be there with him wasn't it?"

His eyes closed and his fingers clenched unconsciously into fists. "Very much so," he whispered.

"He's still alive?"

Casavir nodded.

"Then you're a better person than I. But we already knew that," I said in a sad attempt to lighten the air.

"Don't." His voice carried so much pain it made my heart ache. "Please don't." He gripped my free hand in his and squeezed it convulsively. I tugged at it and pulled him closer. We stood in the cold light of dawn and held each other tightly. He stroked my hair as I rested my ear against his chest and listened to his breathing, his heart beat. Comforting sounds of life.

It was a while before he gently kissed the top of my head and disengaged from the embrace. Stooping to pick up the fur that had dropped from my shoulders, he noticed my ragged and bloodstained broken nails, the bruises at my throat. He tilted my chin up and stared at them.

"Someone tried to choke you." The upset was clear in his voice. He turned my chin this way and that. "Who was it? Was it Bishop?" The look in his eyes changed from turbulence and grief to a rage so profound the azure darkened to near violet. There was finally a target that he could do something about. He had every intention of using this excuse to do what years of training and self denial had buried. That look in his eyes was vengeance.

I didn't say anything as I tried to figure out a way to explain what happened in a way that didn't sound horrible. How would I explain that had I not brushed so close to death myself, my grief would have led us all into disaster, that I would have made hideous decisions that would have destroyed everything and everyone. Bishop would have killed me if I had not come to that realization. And if I hadn't come to that realization, I would be better off dead.

He took my silence for confirmation. With what sounded suspiciously like a growl, he took off running for the keep door. "Casavir, no!" I started after him, but there was no way that I could keep with his much longer stride.

By the time I caught up, he had found Bishop in the map room. The smaller man had leapt out of the chair now lying on its side and was dodging the large fist that was flying toward him. It appeared from the trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth that the fist may have already landed at least once before. A naked longsword appeared in the ranger's hand and was aimed directly at Casavir's stomach. Bishop was intending to kill him, and kill him slowly.

"Stop!" I screamed. "Both of you! Stop this!" Neither of them even spared me a glance. Casavir was now in retreat and Bishop was advancing slowing, a cruel smirk on his lips. Weaponless, I looked around for something to break this up before any more blood was spilt. The only things near at hand were neatly racked map cases. I grabbed one and threw it with all my strength at Bishop. It hit him in the shoulder and he turned to me with a snarl. Casavir used the second of distraction to launch himself back at Bishop.

A second case clipped the enraged paladin on the back of the skull. Both heads were swung toward me now, both wearing identical bloodthirsty expressions. I hefted another case in warning.

"Bishop. Put the blade away." He glared at me and didn't move. "Casavir, stand down." Casavir didn't move either. "Please." I was almost begging now. "We have already lost one of us. I can't stand to lose more." My voice threatened to crack. "Not right now."

"Kathrynn, he tried to kill you when you were weak." Casavir's voice was rising in the force of his rage and disbelief. "How can you stop this?"

My voice rose to match his. "Of course he tried to kill me when I was weak. That's what weakness does in war. It gets you killed." Catching a movement out of the corner of my eye I looked to see Bishop moving closer to Casavir. "Stand… the fuck… down," I roared at him. "Now!"

There was a pounding of armored feet before several men-at-arms burst through the door. They looked startled to see the battle sounds were coming from us.

"Out!" The order and a glare was all that was needed to have them leaving just as quickly as they entered.

"Now," I said, my voice hard as I stared at Casavir. "We all need to get something straight. I know you want to hurt someone, anyone, because of what you're feeling, but Bishop isn't your target."

"He tried to kill you." Each word was measured out between clenched teeth.

"And that's the only reason you lost control? Hardy. You didn't even give me a chance to explain before you came tearing up here to attack him. I can understand quite well the feeling that violence would sooth the hurt, but I will not have it directed in this manner. Is that clear?" Shame flushed his cheeks and he gave a curt nod.

"And Bishop, what happened last night was a wake up call for me, so I thank you for that." That said I let my voice go completely flat and frigid. "However, if I even _think_ you're contemplating a move like that in the future, you won't get your chance. I will cut off your hands and feet slowly. I'll use your own heated blade to cauterize the wounds. I will put out your eyes and remove your tongue. When I'm done, no priest could ever repair you. And I would leave you like that. Alive and helpless, unable to take even your own life. Is **that** clear?"

"Is that a threat captain?"

I stared at him and let him see just how serious I was. "No. It was a statement. Now are we clear?"

The bastard had the audacity to smile wolfishly at me. "Perfectly."

"Good. One more thing. I need you both alive, or we can't finish this and we're all dead. If someone's weapon happens to accidentally slip into the other person's vitals, you will deal with me." I glanced at Bishop. "No matter where you hide, I will find you."

Casavir nodded and Bishop gave me a mock salute before pushing past to leave. I closed the door behind him and then righted the overturned chair. "Sit."

Jaw clenching, the large man did so. I leaned against the table next to him and ran a hand tiredly over my face. "Are you injured anywhere?" I asked at last.

"No."

"He would have killed you. If he had the time, he would have made it as painful as possible. Is that what you wanted?"

"No." His voice was tight.

"Do you trust me?"

That question took him aback for a moment. "Of course I trust you."

"Then trust me. If his intent was to truly kill me and be done with it, either he or I wouldn't be here today."

"He shouldn't have the chance to even try."

"Maybe, maybe not. That's not your call to make at this point. But he isn't the reason for this though, he's just the catalyst."

Casavir looked at me somewhat sharply. I gave him a small smile. "Yes, sometime I actually pay attention when Sand talks."

I took a breath. "Shandra is gone and the man who killed her is under our roof. It's hard. It's so damn hard to have him here and for the scales to not balance isn't it? Especially for you. Vengeance goes against all you know, but that doesn't stop you from wanting it. I understand that, how strong that desire can be, but you can't let it cloud your judgment. You can't make rash moves like this. The warlock will pay, trust me on that. Until then, there are things that need to be done and I need your head to be clear."

"It seems grief has my lady wise."

"Not wise. Just practical."

We sat there in silence, both turning over what I had said. I was trying as hard to convince myself of my words as I was him. "I want you to make me a promise," I said abruptly.

There was a time not to long ago, earlier this week in fact, where he would have answered me immediately. Now he considered before responding. "What do you wish of me?"

"Swear to me, that if I fall, you will not lose yourself again. The others will need **you**, and not the _katalmack,_ to lead them. Promise me that if I can't, you will finish this."

"You will not fall. I will not fail you like I did-."

I put a finger over his lips. "You didn't fail Shandra. There was nothing you could have done, nothing any of us could have done. She knew what she was doing, there at the end. Honor that."

Knowing eyes caught mine. "And so should you."

I gave him a sad bitter smile. "Someday."


	44. Chapter 44

A/N Everyone's been so awsome with their reviews so I'm uploading a bonus chapter today! This is the chapter where the story really starts to veer from the game to finding it's own path.

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 44

Two days later it was time to talk to Ammon. During those two days I had a lot of time to think about everything. My past, my future, all of it. When I had found that everyone in West Harbor had been slaughtered, the piece of me that died left a dark hole. That hole would eat the grief if I let it. It would suck it down and turn it to strength. There was so much pain and grief, anger and rage in that hole, that it felt as though I could pull that cold, calm, empty armor out at will. That armor had protected me when Bishop and I went after the Circle of Blades and I knew that it would do it again.

I fed the darkness my pain and donned the armor.

*****

We all were sitting around the large table in the dinning hall when I made the announcement.

"Do you think he will talk?" asked Neeshka.

"To tell you the truth, I hope not."

"Then how will you-" She broke off when she saw the calm look I was giving her. "Oh."

Casavir, his desire for revenge back under control since our talk, looked as if he wanted to say something, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

Zhjaeve spoke. "I would like to go with you to speak the man Jerro. I may be able to bring enlightenment to his words."

"Why don't we all go? I'll make him talk." Khelgar scowled and stroked his ax head meaningfully.

"Perhaps that's not such a good idea. It would be difficult for him to talk with his head cleaved in two. No, Sand, Casavir, Zhjaeve, and Bishop, I would like you to come down with me."

"Why them?"

"Sand can ask the right questions and reinforce the anti-magic wards around him if he tried to get free. Casavir will know if he's lying, Zhjaeve can understand the answers, and Bishop has had more practice getting information than I have."

Khelgar grunted but nodded his agreement.

Elanee's face turned angry. "I can not sit by quietly if you plan on letting that waste of human flesh torture a man!" She pointed one long finger in Bishop's direction. Instead of being upset by her insult, he just looked mildly amused. "No matter the man's crimes, such barbaric methods are unnecessary and cruel," she continued passionately.

I waited calmly, arms folded over my chest, for her to finish.

"I have stood by you through everything you've done. I have been silent at every decision you have made. My life has been tied to yours since you were a child, but I will not abide this. I can not! If you loose the beast's reigns like this, then I can no longer stay here."

"Are those your honest feelings?"

"They are."

Everyone was watching me, waiting for my next words with expressions that ranged from discomfort to interest.

"Then I wish you safe travels."

Her jaw worked in disbelief. The elf spun to look at Casavir. "You can not be allowing this to happen!"

Casavir looked from her to me and I could see the wavering in his eyes. I gazed back at him and willed him to remember our conversation. _Trust me. _His jaw firmed. "By Tyr's own will, there is justice for every crime. It will not go beyond what the Maimed One sees fit." He looked to Bishop and me at that, the warning clear in his face. He would accept my decision, but only up to a point.

I nodded. That was acceptable, and expected. Elanee stood frozen, shocked by this turn in her journey. Neeshka, Khelgar and even Qara looked surprised. Casavir was avoiding my eyes and Grobnar just looked confused. When Bishop started to laugh, Elanee turned and sped from the room.

Several long moments passed then there was a whispered, "Wow," from Qara and a "Never really liked her anyway," from Neeshka.

"What do you wish the rest of us to do while you're… busy?" Neeshka asked out loud.

"Sand received a new shipment of books a few days ago, all dealing with Illefarn. I would like the rest of you to go to the library and see if you can figure out any information that we might have missed before. There has to be some little passage, some stupid folk song that tells us more."

Those who would not be joining me left quickly, whispering amongst themselves.

"I truly hope you know what you are doing Captain." Casavir was unhappy and the aura coming off of him nearly burned my skin with the force of his displeasure.

"I hope so too."

*****

It turned out that the drama with Elanee never even needed to take place. Even bound to a chair and magically disabled, Ammon was more than willing to talk to us. The problem seemed to be more along the lines of slowing him down. Words poured out of him in torrents, his arrogance and self righteousness coloring every phrase. Sand's quill flew over paper as he scratched down notes and occasionally asked questions to clarify a point.

Zhjaeve interjected quiet asides every now and again, especially when it came to the parts about the King being imprisoned by the Githyanki.

Ammon had fought against the King of Shadows all his life. He had gained a Silver Sword of the Githyanki, one of the very blades that had driven our current enemy back once before when the king had tried to take over the Astral Plane. The warlock had amassed an army of demons to fight with him and began to search for the rituals of purification. He was getting prepared for the day that the King would escape from his shadowy prison and march upon the City of Shade where the descendants of the ancient empire of Netheril still live.

In an attempt to destroy the eternal enemy of Illefarn, all traces of Netherese magic would be sought and wiped out. The blood of unknowing wizards and sorcerers would be a lodestone, pulling the King to them. And in his path, he would feed on the land leaving it barren and lifeless. Everywhere he went would be desolate and dead. The Sword Coast, the Mere, Neverwinter - all gone.

Ammon's voice was like listening to gravel as it rose and fell with the force of his anger and frustration. He had lost the sword in the midst of a small worthless village. The King of Shadows had summoned a new weapon, a shadow reaver of such strength that the blade could not withstand it. The blade had been broken.

My scar twinged as he told of that night. The blade had shattered and a piece of it had made a place for itself in my flesh.

Ammon had turned angry eyes on me. His army was gone now, destroyed because of me. His granddaughter was dead, because I chose to bring her there. All his life plans were in ruins now because of me.

I watched him spill his words with cool eyes. They couldn't touch me, couldn't hurt me. Not anymore.

His story was winding down. He sat back in the chair and glowered at all of us. "You have the information you need and now you see that everything I have done, I have done to protect this world. You will release me because you can not win this battle without me. Kill me, and you have lost as soon as my heart stops beating."

I was thinking so hard I didn't bother to respond. Casavir looked to me and I nodded distractedly.

"You will assist us, and then you will face judgment for your actions. When this enemy is defeated, it will not excuse any of you actions. You will pay for your crimes and for the blood you have spilt."

"I will be paying for my pacts and my crimes for millennia when I die. There are places in the hells reserved for ones such as me. Whatever punishments you think I deserve, I will suffer a thousand-fold - well beyond anything your small mind can imagine."

For the first time in what seemed like hours that we were down here, Bishop spoke. "Oh, you'd be surprised at what my small mind could imagine old man."

Ammon scoffed. "You are but a child boy, playing at being a man. Your words and threats are nothing to one like me. I have seen true evil, and you come nowhere close."

Bishop leaned back against the wall with an expression so cold and dead that I hoped to never see it directed at me.

We had everything out of Jerro that we were going to get for now. My mind had been racing the whole time he was speaking. I had tried to pay attention to what he was saying but some of his words had caused connections to start forming, each hitting me like an electric bolt as one by one, they snapped into place.

The picture was suddenly crystal clear to me, and it had nothing and everything to do with our current mission.

"I think we have all had enough for now," I said neutrally. "Zhjaeve, can you go up and let the others know what we found out?"

"Of course. I shall impart these learnings so they too shall _know_ them."

"Thank you."

As she headed up the stairs I jerked my head to Casavir. "Would you go with her to make sure everyone can understand her?" I asked lowly.

He nodded and left to follow after her. I watched as the heavy door closed behind the two of them and waited for a few minutes as Sand packed up his notes. "Did you know," I began conversationally to no one in particular, "that nearly every person I have ever cared about is dead?"

"Maybe you should stop caring. Seems to be a death sentence."

I looked at Bishop as he stood, still against the wall but now using a dagger to clean under his nails, the deadness gone from his face. "Perhaps you're right. I would think it might get lonely though. No one to talk to, no one to enjoy each others company with. No one who understands you," I added as I began pacing slowly in front of the chair Jerro was tied to.

"If you're going to kill me for what happened to Shandra, it will have to wait. The King of Shadows must be stopped before you take the blood price for my grandchild's death." Ammon's voice was gravely, but calm. Here was a man who had stared into the face of death before and won. After his imprisonment in the lower planes, a little thing like bodily harm held no fear for him.

"I never said I was going to kill you. It appears that we need you. Also Casavir wishes you to face justice, not to just be executed. He's a good man, that paladin. A lot better than me." I sniffed in a little self deprecating laugh. "But no, I just wanted to tell you what your granddaughter meant to me. I would think you would like to hear about her life. Especially considering all you know about her is her death."

Ammon was silent so I took that as a cue to continue.

"Shandra didn't always understand me, but we had fun together. We liked to have girl time, you know, chatting, maybe getting some drinks at the tavern, speculating who looks like what under their clothes. That sort of thing. She would laugh at my jokes. It's really nice when someone laughs at your jokes. Do you ever make jokes, Ammon?" He stared at me. "Didn't think so."

I came to a stop before Ammon, staring off into the distance. "I have no siblings that I know of. I never knew my father, and my mother died in the West Harbor battle. You remember that one don't you? The night the sword shattered? You brought it to our doorstep." I waved my hand to clear my thoughts. "Never mind. Ancient history. As I was saying. I never had a sister, so I don't know for certain, but I image that's the kind of relationship that Shandra and I shared. It was… nice."

"Shandra kind of reminded me of a friend I had once. Amie. Nice girl, really smart. She wanted to be a mage. She studied so hard. Unfortunately, it didn't save her when the gith tracked your silver blade back to West Harbor. They came in and killed several of the townspeople before we were able to drive them off. Amie was one of the first to die."

"That was the night my foster father sent me away." I resumed my pacing, the outpouring of memories starting to make me restless. "I had thought that perhaps this new attack on the village brought back to many memories for him. You see, when you originally came to West Harbor, his mate died alongside my mother, both of them trying to protect me. He was left to take care of me. They said he was never the same after that night."

I could feel all three men watching me and my restive movements as I poured out my life story with the calm of someone speaking of long healed pain.

"Don't get me wrong. He was never cruel; he kept clothes on my back and food in my belly. He taught me many, many things, but he always had a quiet sadness about him. He was never a loving father like some of the other children had, nor was he abusive like others. He just _was._"

I stopped behind Ammon and placed my hands on his shoulders. "I guess I'm telling you this because everything I am today, one way or another, is because of you." I reached one arm around him and gave him a half embrace. "You are the flame that started this fire in me."

When I drew back, Bishop came off the wall with an odd mixture of emotions on his face. Sand just looked grim. I went back to face Ammon. Both men moved to flank me, Bishop to my right pressing close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body, Sand to my left, his silken robes brushing coolly against my gloveless fingers.

Ammon's mouth moved to speak, but no sound came out. The thin skin of his throat had opened cleanly and crimson blood flowed freely down his chest, soaking his clothing. His mouth gaped open and closed like a fish, but the only sounds that escaped were gasping gurgles. Blood began to fall to the floor in a steady rain.

It took longer than I expected for him to bleed out. It was as if every fiber of his being fought against each precious lost drop. The three of us stared dispassionately at the dieing man until his head dropped to his chest. The arcane light that seemed to illuminate his strange tattoos flickered once, twice, and went out.

A dagger dripped at my side, the same small razor sharp dagger that Shandra had used to open her own flesh. Sand sighed and handed me a rag from a workbench. "You shouldn't have done that. How am I to explain this in my report?"

I shrugged as I carefully cleaned the blood off the blade, wiping it down until every trace was gone. "You don't. You left right after Zhjaeve and Casavir. You know nothing about this until the next report is due."

"What are you going to do about the rituals?"

"Forget the rituals. I have been Fate's bitch all my life it seems. It's finally time to make a new path."


	45. Chapter 45

A/N: You know how people don't read disclaimers anymore? Well, here's one for you. SMUT WARNING!!!! NSFW

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 45

A questioning look and a head jerk at the body were all that I needed for Bishop to help move Ammon. I guess he figured cleaning up after watching an execution was the price of admittance.

Jerro was a big man and was, pardon the pun, dead weight. Much stronger than me, even Bishop was unable to carry the body by himself. We ended up rolling it in old ugly carpet. I smothered a strained giggle. I had a sudden memory of a story where an ancient queen rolled herself up just like this to be snuck out her palace and delivered to her future lover. But there was no lover in Jerro's future, only a cart ride and the removal of his planetary remains.

While we did this, Sand went to get a cart ready. I think he was going to tell one of the farmers that he needed to move some old junk than was cluttering his laboratory. Bishop moved to take the feet end and left me with the head and torso. Gripping the woven fabric tightly, I made it half way up the stairs before my arms started shaking and gave out. Rolling his eyes, Bishop set his end down and traded places with me.

When we got to the side door a small farm cart was waiting for us, a horse hitched to the front. The cart was already loaded with what looked to be the pieces of the furniture from my room. With a heave and no small amount of shoving we got the carpet loaded up. We left Sand to clean up the blood with some spells and found that smuggling a body out of the keep was easier than I had thought it to be. If the guards wondered why the Lady of the keep and her tracker were escorting a bunch of junk from the keep themselves, they made no comment.

Bishop and I walked side by side, the horse dutifully following in our wake.

"So what do you want to do with him?"

I had already thought of this. "Burn him. That way no one can get it in their head to raise him."

"Fire doesn't completely destroy a body you know."

I gave him a sideways glance. His eyes were flicking all around, keeping alert for who knows what. "If the fire isn't hot enough then the body just looks like Khelgar's cooking when the flames finally go out. It takes a lot of heat or a lot of time for it to completely turn to dust. A lot more time than most fires burn."

"Longer than like a house fire?" I asked neutrally. I could sense there was something I didn't want to touch swimming in those deep waters.

"Yeah."

I retreated quickly to a shallow end. "We'll figure something out."

And we did. Bishop led us to an out of the way place where we built a pyre using the furniture pieces and fallen branches. Some blood had soaked through the carpet to the wood of the cart and left a messy stain that couldn't be confused with anything other than it was. Bishop unhitched the horse and with a smack on its rump sent it back home. The cart was broken down and added as well. Sand had pressed a few vials into my hand before we left. They contained something he was playing with that he called an 'accelerant'. Making sure not to get any on my skin, something that he was quite adamant about, I poured them in a thin stream around the pyre.

Bishop had lit a torch and when I was done with my preparations, he handed it to me. Without any reserve I tossed it onto the stack of wood. It lay there for a minute, flickering unsteadily until it touched the fluid I had poured on the wood. The flame leapt with a whoosh and raced around the parameter, following the wet path. In moments the fire was making very steady progress towards completely engulfing our handiwork.

The ranger disappeared into the woods while I stayed and watched the fire burn white hot. The smell was cloying and unmistakable but I still watched. As the body burned I was filled with calm. Not the cold empty calm of earlier, but a satisfied, contented calm. I had coldly executed a man today, against the advisement of my compatriots, but in doing so, I had loosened the chains the bound me. The man burning before me was Fate's hand, the one who started me on this path. With him gone I was free. Free of having to follow the prescribed path to defeat my enemy, free of the rituals and all the bullshit that came with them. I could do this, and I could do it my own way.

By the time Bishop came back, night had fallen and body was completely gone though the fire blazed on. He came to stand beside me. "You seemed somewhat surprised when I did it." I said out of the blue.

I heard the creak of leather when he shrugged. "I've seen that look in your eyes before. I knew you wanted to, though I really didn't think you would go against orders." He spat the word 'orders' as though it were a curse.

"Right now, I think a lot that I'm willing to do would surprise you."

He just grunted in response. We stood there and stared at the fire as larger pieces broke down and crashed into the embers, sending up little sprays of sparks. When the previously ignored rumbling of my stomach could be heard over the crackling flames, Bishop snorted.

"Go eat something, that's getting irritating."

"Didn't bring anything with me."

"Now _that_ doesn't surprise me."

He led me away from the fire to where his pack set in the grass. Next to it lay a cleaned hare, just waiting to be cooked. I looked from the hare to the blazing inferno and frowned. While I could kill a man and dispose of his body without any problems, the thought of cooking my meal on his pyre was a little much even for me. Bishop must have had the same thought because he paused, then went to build a smaller fire a safe distance away.

I finally noticed how cold it was now that I was away from the raging flames. It would be a hard winter this year. I shivered when I realized that I didn't bring my cloak with me. "Is there an extra cloak in your bag by chance?"

He snorted; an eloquent commentary of women and their susceptibleness to heat and cold. He did move away from the fire he was building though and dug a large fur out of one of his bags of holding. He tossed it to me. I caught the edge of it before it hit me in the face and draped it over my shoulders.

Dinner was cooked in short order. Appropriating a fallen log, I dragged it over to our small fire so we wouldn't have to sit on the cold ground. We sat side by side in the firelight eating hot rabbit and suddenly I was reminded of another time we had eaten rabbit together, all alone after having disposed of those who had hurt me so very badly. I was wrapped in his furs at that time as well.

The whole replayed situation suddenly stuck me as amusing and I started snickering. Snickers turned to a full laugh. Bishop was eyeing me warily, trying to decide if I had lost my mind.

"What in the hells is wrong with you woman?"

I set my plate aside as I tried rather unsuccessfully to stifle my laughter. "You always take me on the _worst_ dates," I gasped in between giggles. He stared at me, and then the corners of his mouth started to twitch. Looking away and shaking his head, he gave in to the urge to laugh as well. It was a strange laugh, but one born of actual amusement and not some other, crueler emotion.

The laughter transformed his face. It was my turn to stare. The darkness in his eyes was chased away leaving them like liquid amber. Strong white teeth flashed and the harsh planes of his jaw relaxed. I was drawn towards him like a compass needle. One hand reached out to run though his hair. It was soft and oh so warm. His laughter faded and his eyes were watchful, waiting to see what I would do.

I leaned forward and covered his lips with my own. His gloved hand came up to brush along my throat until he had a grip on the back of my neck. I kissed him again, deeper this time. Using his firm grasp, he tilted my head slightly to a better angle. His tongue ran out to caress my lips before delving in for a tasting. It moved languidly, playing with my tongue, running over my teeth, exploring fully. When it retreated, I chased it back for my own exploration. His mouth was flavored of smoky roasted meats and fire and right at that moment, it was the best thing I have ever tasted.

The grip on the back of my neck tightened and I moaned against his lips. He tried to tug me closer, but sitting side by side on a low log made that difficult. With a little growl he pulled me from my seat. I landed on my knees before him. A hand on a shoulder and the other still on my neck, he hauled me against his body. His chest was hard and unyielding against mine as I ran my fingers over his cheeks, tangled them back in his hair. His kisses were no longer soft and exploratory, they were hungry now, and so were my own. He moved to run his fingers along my scalp and made a frustrated noise when he found my hair was bound back with its usual thong.

I pulled back just enough to tug it out roughly, taking several stands of hair with it in my eagerness. It landed somewhere near the fire, but then I didn't care because his hands were in my hair, grabbing great fistfuls of it to keep me from escaping. Our lips met again as if their sole purpose in life was to devour each other. I nipped at his lips then soothed them with my tongue. A groan came from deep in his chest. He tore his mouth from mine and began trailing kisses down my chin to my throat. His mouth worked over the sensitive skin, licking, sucking. I whimpered and raised my self up, my head rolling back to give him better access. My fingers flexed spastically on the back of his neck and when he attempted to remove his mouth, I let him feel the bite of my nails.

He rewarded me for the little bit of pain with a harsh nip. Not unlike the painful bite he had taken so long ago, this one had me shivering uncontrollably against him. My breath was coming hard and fast. I ran my hands down his arms, his chest, but the leather wouldn't let me feel him. I tugged impatiently at the buckles but it was difficult when his mouth moved to the other side to nibble at my ear. My hands faltered as I gasped. "Can't… concentrate if you do that," I managed to get out. The low dark chuckle in my ear was so intensely erotic it fanned the already raging flames in my bloodstream. "By the gods." It came out in a shuddering whisper. Temporarily abandoning the armor, I pressed my mouth to his neck. His pulse leapt under my tongue and when I scraped my teeth over his skin the grip in my hair turned almost painful.

Bishop pulled away and I nearly fell forward at the loss of his support. Had I already not been kneeling, I would have landed on the ground. His eyes were burning with a heat that put the pyre behind us to shame. When I moved to kiss him again he captured my face in a none-to-gentle grasp. "Stop this now or I swear, you won't have a choice later," he ground out.

"Gloves," I whispered as my answer.

"What?"

"Take off your gloves." To demonstrate my point, I nipped at one of the leather clad thumbs resting at the corner of my mouth. He rescued his hands from my teeth and started to tug off the offending piece of clothing. Taking advantage of the momentary cease fire to my senses, I began working again on those damnedable buckles.

All but one was undone when he touched me with his bare hands. I had thought there was nothing that could top the feelings he was stirring in me before. I was wrong, so wrong. The heat of his skin went through me like lightning. He drew me in for a deep kiss, his hands sliding again through my hair, lifting the strands, letting it fall through his fingers. His skin was warm against my scalp. My mouth moved and traced his jaw, the faint stubble abrading my lips. I worked my way to his ear and traced the shell of it with my tongue. He groaned against the side of my neck, the heat of his breath playing along my skin.

The last buckle was finally undone. I tugged at it, making little whimpers of frustration and desire. He stood abruptly and pulled it over his head. Tossing it to the side, he turned to look at me on my knees before him. His skin was golden in the fire light. Shadows played across the hard planes of his stomach chest. Tanned flat nipples were hard from the cold and the effect we were having on each other. A few swift movements and the fur that had been around my shoulders was spread on the grass.

He came down to the fur and pulled me onto his lap until I was straddling him. He was primed already and even through the restrictive leather leggings, I could feel the press of him. I traced my fingers over the muscles in his chest. They jumped when I caught his nipples between my fingers. I could feel his scrabbling at my body, searching for and deftly undoing the fasteners on my own armor with much less difficulty than I had. My head dipped and I lightly licked at one of the nipples captured between my fingers.

Bishop's breath hissed in. I removed my fingers and replaced them with my mouth. Sucking gently, I bit down, worrying at it with my front teeth. Immediately bulge that was pressed so intimately against me jerked and hardened further. I moaned against his chest and couldn't help the movement of my hips as I rubbed against it. I could feel my self getting wetter by the moment as I rocked over him. He let out a strangled curse. Ripping the armor over my head he tossed it away. His hands gripped my bare back, fingers dimpling my skin. The hard grip on my ribcage forced me to grind against him as his mouth covered my neck and shoulders with bruising bites and kisses.

My head fell back. I could feel my loose hair brush over my flesh and his hands. It was just another sensation in the endless eternity he was creating. Warm lips grazed my chest. My back arched and those lips fastened on my right breast. I could feel his tongue moving over my nipple, laving it, flicking quickly over it. When it tightened more fully in his mouth he let out a pleased growl and drew on it hard. My own growl was from deep in my throat. My bones had completely turned to water. I let my back bend and my arms support me, thrusting my breasts up for his mouth to feast on. One of his hands stayed at my back to guide my movements and the other reached up the roll the other nipple between his fingers.

The harder he sucked and pinched, the more the pressure built, both below and above. When nipple his mouth so focused on had become overly sensitive, I moved to pull his head to the other. That's when he bit down. My startled cry echoed loudly off the trees. I grabbed his hair with one hand and rocked violently against him. In a move that had to be scalp rippingly painful, he removed my grip and dumped me over onto my back. My wrists were pinned to either side of my head and his hips were hard against mine.

Somehow, in the space of one moment to the next, I was divested of my boots, pants, and everything between. My heart raced as he smoothed a hand over my hip and down the thigh. His head moved to nuzzle my belly and I could hear him scenting deeply of my arousal. A finger parted my lower lips and slid agonizingly slow down the slick channel. I moaned loudly and writhed under his fingertips. He dipped a finger into me, testing my readiness. Another finger followed suit, bringing a gasp and a whimper to my lips. It had been so long, too long. They hooked and thrummed in me, retreated and advanced

When he removed his hand from between my legs, it glistened in the low light. He swore under his breath. The rest of his armor came off with uncharacteristic haste. When he was finally naked, he was even more magnificent than I had ever fantasized about. I looked at his body longingly and sat up to touch him. He knelt between my thighs and shoved me back down. "This isn't the time for that," he snarled.

Big hands cupped my hips and lifted them from the fur. He filled me with one hard thrust and I shrieked, half in pain, half in pleasure. He froze once he was buried deeply within me, his breathing ragged. He shook with the need to move, his jaw clenched, the cords in his neck standing out in sharp relief, but he held back until my walls had a chance to ease slightly from his sudden invasion. In the stillness I was overly aware of his body in mine. I could feel his blood pulsing and throbbing erotically in me. I moved my hips and that broke the spell holding him.

He came off his knees to cover me, his movements frenzied, animalistic. It was as if the past several months of teasing and taunting had come together in that moment. If I hadn't been so desperate for him, his hard movements and biting kisses would have hurt. But instead it just felt incredible. I wrapped my legs tightly around his hips and the new position allowed him to hit my clit with every thrust. A series of whimpering little cries were flowing from my mouth in a steady stream and my eyes fluttered shut.

"Open your eyes," he ordered in a ragged growl. I did. In the firelight, on a cold winter night in the middle of a clearing, my eyes met his and caught. The intensity in his amber eyes was enthralling. My heart somehow found the strength to beat just a little faster at that look. Our gazes remained locked until he made a move that tossed me over the edge of the abyss. Nails ripping down his back and my head tossing, I screamed. I clutched at him, my movements frenzied, prolonging the moment of white hot bliss.

He let out a roar of his own and I felt him twitching deep inside me. Bishop's body shook with tremors so fine that had I not been wrapped around him, I wouldn't have even been able to notice them.

We stayed locked together like that for a long while until Bishop rolled over to lay beside me. Our breathing was loud and harsh in the quiet night air. A breeze came by and dried the sweat from our bodies in one moment and in the next, reminded us that autumn had fled, leaving winter to take a firm hold. I started shivering again, but it was from cold this time.

Naked as the day he was born, he stood up. I had the chance this time to admire him in the fire light. Nature had been almost overly kind to him, as I already knew. His cock had only partially softened and the size of it in that state put everyone else in my rather limited experience to shame. Muscles rippled in his firm rear end and thighs as he walked, drawing my attention from the object jutting from the nest of dark golden brown curls. When he turned from me, I could see long bloody furrows down the hard planes and dips of his back.

The bloody marks caused reality to come smashing back into me with the force of a runaway cart. There would always be blood with us, one way or another. Now that we had finished, what now? Bishop was up and moving. Was he going to put his clothes back on and disappear back into the woods, as he tended to do? I didn't expect affectionate cuddling or talks about feelings. The mere idea of Bishop talking about feelings had me grinning past my chattering teeth. Besides, I was confused about how I felt about him anyway. While he seemed to understand me more than anyone else ever had, I knew that one day I may be forced to kill him. No matter what came to pass between us, I would still do it if I had to. I made myself that promise long before it had come to this.

Bishop wasn't putting his armor back on. Instead he came back over and draped another fur on top of me. As he bent to put it around me, I noticed his balls had pulled tightly to his body and his cock had softened completely in the short trip to the bag and back.

"Plenty of room," I offered. There was a fraction of a second where he seemed to hesitate, unsure of what he wanted to do. He laid down next to me and I tossed the other edge of the warm fur over him. We both stared up at the sky and didn't speak. He laced his fingers behind his head and from the corner of my eye I could see a myriad of emotions flicker over his face before a scowl won the battle.

"Don't think that this changes anything. I'll still kill you if the time comes." His voice lacked the hard edge it usually carried, but I didn't doubt his words for a moment.

I snorted a laugh and rolled to my side, an arm pillowing my head. "Funny. I was thinking the same thing."

He just grunted. Now that that was clear another thought popped into my head. My body felt deliciously used and languid now that I was covered and getting warm again and the idea of going back to the keep and dealing with the questions and explanations that had to be done was extremely unappealing. "Bishop?" I asked sleepily. He tensed beside me. I laughed a little. "Relax. I'm not going to declare undying love or any shit like that. I just wanted to know if it would be safe to stay here tonight. I'm not ready to deal with the keep yet."

"Yeah, it's safe enough."

"Good," I said with a yawn. I tugged the fur up higher and had a sudden vivid memory of a time in the Port Llast tavern when I made the challenge that Bishop would never stick around after the deed was done. He had responded with a silky line about motivation. He didn't seem to be going anywhere right now, but then again, it was freezing out. It would be interesting to see if he was still there come morning.


	46. Chapter 46

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 46

The sky was a gradient; from the violet of night to the grey of early dawn when a soft noise awoke me. I raised my head to see Karnwyr padding quietly around the parameter of the clearing, keeping a watch over his human companion. My head came back down to rest in the warm spot on Bishop's chest. Sometime during the night we had come together in our sleep. My leg was thrown was over his and his arm was around my back holding me tightly to his chest. Somehow the covers had been tucked tightly around us, wrapping us is in a warm cocoon of fur and body heat.

I carefully raised my head again to look at him. His face was relaxed in sleep, the hard lines not quite as harsh. A few dark strands of my hair had caught on the stubble of his jaw and I sleepily wondered at the intimacy of such a little detail. He made a soft sound and stirred in his sleep, his head turning to capture several locks of my hair under his cheek. Bishop breathed deeply and rubbed his face catlike over the imprisoned locks. The sight made me smile.

The hand resting on my ribs brushed the underside of my breast as it twitched slightly. My head went back to its gently rising and falling pillow. The last thought I had made me fall back asleep with a pleased smirk on my face. _Its morning and he's still here._

*****

When I awoke again the sky was the clear and cold and grey. I was alone in the makeshift bed. The embers of the small cooking fire had completely gone and the ashen pile that was once a pyre released little wafts of smoke in random areas. Bishop came out of the trees on the far side of the clearing, bow in hand. He scooped up my clothing on his way over and dumped them on the bedding.

"Soldiers are coming. Get dressed."

_Everything is back to normal I see. _Out loud I asked, "My men, or enemies?"

"Could be both, depending on if they know the old man is gone."

I pulled my armor under the blankets, unwilling to leave the warmth long enough to get dressed. I wiggled into my leggings and tried to get on the soft shirt that protected my skin from chafing in the armor but wasn't able to manage the task huddled under the furs. I scurried out from the blankets and rose to pull the shirt over my head.

Bishop was watching me with hooded eyes. I paused in getting dressed and let him take a good long look. My nipples were hard as diamonds in the cold breeze and seemed to drawn his gaze especially. I smiled slightly and saw his throat move in a hard swallow. His eyes flicked away with some difficulty. "Better put your clothes back on Captain, unless you plan on using your body to raise those soldiers morale," he said crudely, cocking his head as if listening for the sounds of the approaching men and in a way that had him looking anywhere but at me.

My head jerked back as if struck. _Oh yeah, everything is completely back to normal._ On went the undershirt and the armor. Fingers stiff with cold worked at the buckles until I was firmly back in my armor. Areas of my skin, my ribs and nipples in particular, all protested the close fitting stiff leather pressing against them. I knew then that there were probably some bruises. Five seconds ago, I would have relished the feeling and with each little ache relived last night in my head. But that was five seconds before Bishop had opened his mouth. Now I was just annoyed.

I slid the few blades that had fallen out of their sheaths when the armor was first tossed back into their homes. One of the weapons that had slipped out was one of the daggers he had gotten enchanted for me, the lightening one. I gave him a hard stare as I pressed it firmly back into position, my grip on the hilt releasing the faintly tangy scent of ozone.

The breeze carried the sound of voices to us, men's voices. He gathered the furs and shoved them back into his pouch. There was no point in trying to erase the matted grass where we slept considering the two piles of ash showed quiet clearly that someone had been there. We nodded to each other and began to move.

We kept to the trees and slipping past the men-at-arms was child's play. Before long we were in viewing distance of the farms outlying the keep. I spoke for the first time. My voice sounded a little husky from the screaming I had done the night before but I ignored that little detail. "Thanks for your help yesterday. Will you be coming back to the keep with me, or will you be moving on now?" I asked coolly. He got what he wanted, now was the perfect time for him to make a strategic exit.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this little homecoming of yours for the world. Watching you try to explain yourself should be worth the trip."

I scowled the entire way back to the keep.

*****

The scowl was even more firmly in place when we passed the great thick gates.

The yard was in chaos. Kana was yelling, actually yelling at a group of soldiers. Casavir was speaking with another group, looking tense. Everyone else, with the notable exception of Elanee and Sand, who were both absent, were clustered together tightly. When we stepped into the courtyard, several heads turned our way expectantly, probably thinking the guards had come back. When they saw us, all my companions and Kana rushed over to us.

All but Casavir began talking at once. They had discovered Jerro was missing this morning, along with Bishop and myself. Sand had gotten an urgent message and had been called away last night and what in the hells was going on.

Sand had gotten an urgent message? I snorted to myself. He was probably just hiding till I got back. I held up a hand to stop the cacophony of voices. "War room. One hour."

The questions started again immediately and I repeated myself, this time in a tone that brooked no argument. "War room. One hour."

Casavir, having stood silently though all of this was staring at me with eyes like blue ice. He never looked at me like that before. His hand shot out and grabbed my upper arm. Everyone around me nearly jumped in surprise except the person at my back. From him, I heard the scraping of metal as if a longsword had slid partially out of its sheath.

The grip on my arm tightened and next thing I knew, I was being propelled through the doors of the keep, down a hall and thrust into an empty room, the door slamming shut behind us.

"I truly hope you have an explanation because you are very, very close to having me believe that I have made a large error in judgment with you."

The hand actually gave me a hard little shake with each tightly bitten out word. My eyes were wide. Even when he had tried to attack Bishop, there hadn't been this much rage roiling over his face. It seemed that all the recent events had started to push this tightly controlled man close to a breaking point.

"Casavir," I said slowly, like I would speak to an angry animal. "You are my friend at a time when I really don't have any. I respect and admire you. You, above all others, have my trust. However, if you don't stop shaking me, you will soon resemble your maimed god in more ways than ideology."

Casavir stopped shaking me, but only because he spun me around to face a large mirror on the wall. "Look at yourself."

I did. What I saw was dark hair tousled and left free. My lips were swollen and red. There were marks on my neck that made it plain what I had been doing last night. Unashamed, I met his eyes in the mirror.

.He released me and stepped back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Kathrynn! What am I supposed to do? You ask me to trust you and yet on the same night you, Jerro, and Bishop disappear. When you return you come back knowing Jerro is gone and looking like this. Kana is of the opinion that the three of you are working together against us. I find myself having trouble not seeing the logic in that assumption."

"So the idea is that Bishop and I snuck out of the keep and released Jerro, effectively destroying any chance we had at defeating the King of Shadows. Probably because we are all working for him, right? Then, Bishop and I screwed each other all night to celebrate? Or is the theory that Ammon joined in on that as well before we let him go?"

Casavir flushed at the crude imagery but I continued with admirable calm. "Perhaps we did all this with him as payment for killing his grandchild and my friend. Or perhaps it was for killing my mother, or destroying my home. Three times."

When he said nothing, I ran a hand through my own tangled hair and sighed. "This world is not going to die because of what happened last night, no matter what any of you think I did. You've trusted me this long. Trust me a little longer. I'll explain when we're all together, because I'm only going to say it once. If you feel all feel that I have destroyed us all that that point, you are welcome to cut the shard out of my chest and do this your way while I do it mine."

He looked at me for a long time. Finally he nodded and left without another word.

I made my way back to my room. Judging I had maybe forty minutes remaining of the designated hour I skipped the quick bath I was hoping to take. I got the smoke smell off of my skin as best I could, but without being able to wash my hair, it was nearly a lost cause. Grabbing a brush I tugged it through my hair, wincing at the sharp pulls of the tangles. Once I had it bound back in its normal position, I looked in the mirror.

I looked a little more like the woman everyone was familiar with and a little less like the betrayer they thought me to be. There was nothing I could do about my swollen lips and the marks on my neck, but there was nothing I wanted to do about them anyway. That, of everything I had done the day prior, was the most innocent of my actions.

*****

Everyone, even Kana and Sand, were in the War Room at the appointed time. It seemed Sand had returned from his 'urgent summons' in time to join us as well. Bishop, as normal was sitting slightly apart from the others, but today it was interesting to note that Casavir had taken Elanee's now empty chair and Khelgar was in Qara's seat. The only reason either man would be sitting next to him was incase they needed to restrain him. Bishop gave me a small knowing smirk.

I had thought a lot about how I wanted to say what needed to be said during the time I took to get ready for this. I started without any preamble.

"Ammon Jerro is dead."

That got an immediate reaction. Casavir closed his eyes and I could see his nostrils flare as he took a deep breath. Kana jumped to her feet and began shouting. Khelgar began shouting as well, but at Kana, not me. Neeshka began shouting at both of them. Zhjaeve's head and shoulders seemed to deflate.

"You certainly had a busy day didn't you?" Qara asked contemptuously. "First you kick out the elf, and then you have the prisoner killed. What happened? Did he not agree with you also? Bishop and you are obviously so _close._ Did he kill him for you?"

I leaned back in my chair and sat with my arms folded. I waited for silence before I bothered answering her. "If that is what you think," I said calmly, "then perhaps you should consider the fact that you're still here. But no, to answer your question, Bishop did not kill him. I never asked him to because I am more than capable of dealing with problems myself."

"Perhaps all is not lost," said Zhjaeve. "I know that he was the cause of great pain for you, but you can not allow this world to fall into shadow because of your personal feelings. If you take us to the body I can raise him and we can complete this task."

Bishop tossed a bag onto the table. It landed in front of her with a soft plop. Zhjaeve looked at in trepidation. Finally her sage colored fingers undid the tie and opened the bag. Her head bowed. "Even the strongest of my people could not undo this damage you have done."

"What's in the bag?" asked Neeshka, reaching for it. Her fingers dipped in and came away grey with ash. Her face went pale. The demon marks, usually so faint, stood out clearly against the pallor.

Kana was on her feet again. "You fool! You selfish little bitch. Lord Nasher will have your head for this!"

"Kana?"

She glared at me, her hands curling to fists on the table.

"Sit the fuck down."

She sat.

"Jerro was a murder many times over," I said dispassionately to the assembly. "To me personally, he, in one way or another, caused the death of nearly everyone I have ever cared about. He would have killed us all for standing in his way. He needed to die."

"Who appointed you the judge and executioner?" When I gave her a level look, Kana changed tracks. "He was going to work with us. You heard him tell you himself."

"Maybe, maybe not. Either way, it doesn't matter."

"I have been briefed on the situation. It seems to matter very much. Is he or is he not the one who completed the last ritual that was needed to weaken the enemy?"

"He was."

"Then how does it not matter?" Kana was shouting by this point.

"I'm going to ask you to think in shades of grey for a moment. I know that will be hard for you, but work with me here. All of you. Sand, if you would, please tell us exactly what the books said of the protector of Illefarn."

He cleared his throat. "Illefarn was threatened by Netheril. In order to protect their way of life, they created a guardian, the entity we know as the King of Shadows. They created him to be immortal, to protect them in perpetuity. However, they were intelligent enough to realize that such great power can corrupt so they created themselves an exit strategy in case they lost control. They devised the rituals of purification to weaken the guardian and make it possible to dispose of him. It is written that those rituals are his only weakness, the only possible way to destroy him."

"So we're doomed." This was from Neeshka.

"Sand, do the books say anything about silver swords?" I asked, ignoring her comment.

He thought for a moment. "No, actually they do not. Those come later, but they are mentioned nowhere by the people of Illefarn."

"So the books specifically say that only the rituals can weaken him?"

He nodded. "That is correct."

"However, we have found out that silver swords also have the ability to weaken him."

He nodded again. People were starting to sit forward now, looks of hostility changing to looks of intense concentration.

"Say you create a weapon with the power to protect your people. You write down how to stop him. What happens if the book falls into the wrong hands? Then your enemy knows the only way to defeat your greatest strength. So what do you do?"

They all looked at me, with only Bishop venturing an answer. "You lie."

I pointed a finger at him. "Give the man a prize. Nobody smart enough to create something like this would be stupid enough to write down all his weaknesses in a neat little list. Instead, they would write down a tediously complicated series of actions that no one in their right mind would do."

"What are ye saying lass?"

"Forget the rituals. The Time of Troubles has shown us that nothing is immortal, not even gods. Everything can be killed; it's just a matter of finding out how."

"But the rituals would have made it a certainty that we could defeat him."

"You think so Kana? Personally, if you were an all powerful guardian and you knew that your makers had created a way to destroyed you easily, in all that time you wouldn't have taken steps to immunize yourself from them? You'd certainly make a piss poor guardian."

This got a snort from Neeshka and Bishop, but Kana actually sat back for the first time since I entered the room and looked thoughtful.

"And what if the rituals **were** the only way? The way that it was fated to be? What then?"

I smiled at her. "Fate? I have an issue with Fate. If that is the way she wants it to be, then she's going to have to deal with me. I've been her bitch for too long. The tables have turned and if she doesn't like it, then she's going to have to bend over because that's how I'm going to give it to her."

"So what are we going to do now?"

"Keep looking in the books Sand brings in. Reforge the sword. Zhjaeve says that we technically have enough to do it but something tells me," I tapped at my scar, "that we are missing a key piece. So we find that piece and then remake the blade."

"Where's the last piece?" Qara asked.

"Zhjaeve told all of you about the new weapon the King forged right? The reaver who shattered the blade in the first place? I suspect he has it."

"If he was strong enough to shatter the blade, then how will you get it from him?"

I shrugged. "Don't know yet but I'll figure it out soon. This threat is too big for just Neverwinter to be concerned about it. I have a feeling that help will come from unexpected places."

After that, everyone seemed to be more relaxed. No matter what their feelings on how I did it, the man who killed Shandra was dead, and the cause wasn't yet lost. Kana left, saying she needed to report and that there should be time to get the message over before Nasher's men showed up to arrest me.

Each person wandered out slowly until only Casavir and Bishop were left. Sand got up to leave, but Casavir asked him to wait. He sat back down, shooting me a slightly anxious look.

"Sand, did you know that the prisoner was dead?" Casavir asked directly.

I opened my mouth to give the prescribed excuse but Sand answered first. "I did."

"And you did not tell anyone?"

"I asked him not to," I said for him.

"Why?"

"I needed time to get destroy the body so he couldn't be raised."

Casavir tapped steepled fingers to his lips, deep in thought. Finally he looked to Sand and Bishop. "Give us a moment."

Neither man moved. Casavir sighed and turned to face me directly. "I must ask your forgiveness, my lady, for doubting you."

"Nothing to forgive. You wouldn't be who you are if you hadn't doubted me. I don't want anyone to follow me blindly and you're no exception."

He was silent for a long moment. "How did you do it?" he asked quietly.

"What?"

"He wants to know if you gave the bastard as much pain as he deserved. He's worried you might have sullied your pretty grey soul by torturing him." Bishop drawled.

"Ah. No, I didn't. It was quick and I would think relatively painless. A much kinder death than he deserved."

He looked to Sand as if for confirmation. When Sand nodded, he looked to the Bishop. Distaste for the man was clear on his face, but he wanted to know the truth.

Bishop smiled coldly. "She did give him a rather poignant tale of her life. That was torturous enough that it nearly brought a tear to my eye." I snorted at that fat lie. "Then she slit his throat. Couldn't have done it more smoothly myself. It looked like your precious Captain has had some experience with it."

"If she has, I'm sure it was because of you."

Bishop's smile grew wider. "That may be. She has had all sorts of _experiences_ when she's with me."

I stood up and placed my hands on the table. "That's enough from both of you. Casavir, do you have any other questions?" He shook his head. "Then I'm leaving. You all can continue goading each other all you want, but I'm going to take a bath."

Bishop's mouth opened to say something. Something most likely crude and said only to get a rise from Casavir, but I shot him a dark look before I swept from the room.


	47. Chapter 47

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 47

For the first few days, the guards seemed uneasy around me, but soon enough everything fell back into its usual routine. Most of our time was spent in the library, looking through dusty old tomes until my eyes felt as though they would fall from my head. I had escaped for a little while and was in my room going though a few of my bags. Even organizing the chaos that had accumulated was an improvement to the constant sneezing and itchy eyes from the library.

Neeshka slipped in the door. "You too huh?" she asked, settling her self on the bed next to me.

"Yeah."

She picked up a lightly enchanted dagger and flipped it between her fingers casually. "So."

"So?"

She gave me a knowing look. "So how was it?"

"How was what?" I asked innocently.

She huffed an exasperated breath. "How was he?"

"He who?"

She tossed a glove at my head. I caught it and laughed, relenting. "He was… good. Enthusiastic."

Neeshka giggled. "I'll say. The marks on your neck still haven't gone away." She looked at me closer. "You know, a healing potion would clear those up," she said casually.

I shrugged. The bruises on my body also hadn't faded completely, but I didn't want them to. I wanted to keep them as a sort of memento. Bishop had barely spoken to me since we returned to the keep and I figured the marks I left on him would have been taken care of as soon as he had a moment.

"I saw Bishop down in the hot springs this morning," she continued, just as casually. "From the looks of his back, seems like you were pretty enthusiastic yourself."

I turned away to cover my blush. He hadn't had those healed? Interesting. "Were you spying on him?" I asked with mock severity.

"Of course I was. He's got a great ass, not to mention other things."

That got a grin from me. I was quite aware of how nice his… assets were. I cleared my throat. "Those marks could be from that lightskirt he sees sometimes."

There was a snort from the bed. "Nuh uh. He hasn't been to see Kali since you two disappeared."

"You know her name?"

"Well yeah, I wanted to get the scoop from someone. She said he was always angry when he came to see her and even angrier when he left. She's afraid of him. He's only been two or three times and each time she said he got scarier and scarier. She said to tell you thanks for finally sleeping with him. She was worried that he would come by again and she would have to tell him no."

"By the gods, does the entire keep know what happened?"

"Duh."

"Is he going around and telling everyone?"

"Actually, that's the interesting part. Bishop hasn't said a word to anyone but the soldiers who were in the courtyard when you came back could tell what had happened. One of them tried to rib him about it and Bishop broke the poor guy's nose!"

"How do you know about that?"

"Fox was there, he told me all about it."

"Who the hell is Fox?"

"Xander Fox, the guard you saw me dancing with the other night."

I rubbed a knuckle over my brow.

"Anyway, Fox said that the guy asked how you were in the sack. When Bishop just gave him that look of his, you know, the one that makes you think he's going to rip out your spine and beat you to death with it, the guy just kept talking. Said that since you slept with a killer like him, maybe you wouldn't say no to a few of them."

I closed my eyes. I could just see one of the guards being cocky enough and stupid enough to try and take him on.

"It took three guys to pull Bishop off the other man, but he was pretty busted up before they could. The only reason the guard's not dead was because Bishop didn't go immediately for his weapons," Neeshka finished with no small amount of relish.

"That fool," I muttered.

"Which one?"

"I'm not really sure."

"You know what this means don't you?"

"I have to pay restitution to the man's family?"

"No silly." She leaned forward to whisper importantly, "Bishop defended your honor."

"Neesh, we are talking about the same man right? Surly ranger, doesn't like anyone?"

She nodded emphatically, her short hair bouncing around her little horns.

"You know he only did it because the guard insulted him."

"I don't think so. You can insult him all day long and he doesn't do anything but throw it back at you ten fold."

"Then it was probably because he was in a bad mood. Bishop would never attack someone because they said something about me. He might do it for the hell of it, but not because he was upset they tried to insult me."

Neeshka shrugged her slender shoulders. "Call it what you want, but personally, I think you have that poor boy tied into so many knots he doesn't know which end is up."

"If that's true, which it's not, that's not a good place to be. You know what he does to knots don't you?"

She shook her head.

"He slices they open till they fall away."

Her lips twisted in a grimace. "You have weird taste in men, you know that? You're fairly attractive and you have that whole destiny thing about you. Men like that. You could probably have any man here, including a certain paladin, and yet you choose the one person who would kill you before he would snuggle with you."

My hands were busy sorting items into piles, weapons here, gems there, jewelry on that side, but my eyebrows rose at that comment and I looked at her. I picked the most matter of fact tone I could manage. "I didn't choose Bishop. It's just with everything that's happened recently, we both took pleasure where it was offered. When you're not sure if you're going to die the next day, it doesn't make any sense to pass up a chance like that."

Neeshka dropped the dagger she was playing with into the unsorted pile and fell back onto my pillows with a soft flump. "Gods! You are such a horrid liar," she said with a laugh. "Know what I think?"

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me," I said, moving her discarded weapon to the right place.

"I think you're as tied up about him as he is about you. You both have too much of that 'I'm a bad-ass so don't mess with me' thing going that neither of you will ever admit it. You two need to relax."

"Sorry, relaxation plans have been canceled. World to save, ya know?"

"I got it. I know what we should do."

I sighed and moved on to sorting the gems into two piles, one to sell, and one that Sand could use in his laboratory.

"The solstice is coming," Neeshka said, as if that explained everything.

"I thought it was already winter?"

"Nope, not for a two more weeks. We need to have a solstice celebration. I think it would be good for everyone."

"Neesh, we are in the middle of planning for a war. I don't think a party would be a good idea."

"No, it's perfect. Everyone could use a break and a reminder of what it is we are actually fighting to save." The tiefling's eyes were drawn to the neat piles of sparkling stones I was accumulating. "Can I have this?" she asked, picking up a rather nice emerald. I nodded and she pocked it smoothly. "So what do you think?" she asked, as if she hadn't just been distracted by bright shiny objects.

I thought about it. Perhaps it would be a good idea. The men were getting antsy. All the drilling and the training and so far they had seen no battle, though they all knew it would be coming soon. Perhaps a celebration would be the morale booster needed to keep them alive in the fight to come.

"I don't have any time to plan it," I said cautiously.

"Don't worry about it! I'll take care of everything."

The grin on her face made me smile, even as it had me slightly worried. Neeshka set loose to plan a party for hundreds of people? May the gods save us all.

*****

The library was huge, a book lover's paradise, a researcher's dusty prison. I sat at a table with a wall of books around me trying to drown out the soft humming from Grobnar as he sat across from me, a pile of books of his own. Sheets of paper were scattered around me and a half empty inkpot sat at my fingertips. I had made my tedious way through nearly a third of the tight spidery handwriting that composed the book before me and had made copious notes, most of which seemed absolutely pointless. There was no chapter neatly labeled, 'Secret Way to Rid the World of the King of Shadows' so we were all left to go through mountains of books and pull together what information we could, looking for some unknown clue.

There was a polite cough at the doorway. "My lady."

I didn't glance up from my book. "Yes Kana?"

Kana and my relationship, while never close, had been even more strained since the Ammon incident. She was always watching me, looking to see if I was doing something suspicious. I didn't blame her, but it made dealings with her… tense, to put it kindly.

"There is a group of people here desiring to see the Knight-Captain of the Crossroad Keep."

"Tell them the Knight-Captain of the Crossroad Keep is dead, buried alive under the mountains of books Sand feels so necessary to throw her way," I said, barely glancing up from the book in front of me.

If at all possible her back got even straighter as she drew herself into attention. I suddenly had an image of a pole being shoved even further up her ass. I bit my cheek hard to keep myself from snickering as she looked at me disapprovingly. "If I may remind you captain, you sent out a call to adventuring parties and that you were adamant that you be the one to interview them."

My nose wrinkled. I remembered all right. I had to make sure that the people that got sent out on my behalf would actually have a chance to make it back alive. One of the things that I learned while traipsing around Faerûn was that military discipline and training was all well and good while fighting a war, but was horrid for producing creative thinkers. I needed people who could think on their feet, not ones who constantly looked to their officers for orders. With a sigh I set down my pen and got to my feet.

Sand frowned from his own table. He looked pointedly from the unread pile to me. "I'll make it quick," I promised.

Passing Lieutenant Kana in the doorway her discreet cough stopped me. "What is it now?"

"Perhaps you wish to retire wash room prior to meeting this group?"

I rolled my eyes. "Speak plainly."

She gestured toward my cheek. "You have a smudge of ink on your face."

"Is that all?" I licked my thumb and to her horror, rubbed it vigorously over my skin. "Better?"

She nodded, looking aghast. Poking at Kana and her uptight ways always amused me and with a smirk, I sauntered past her.

I made my way to the main room, no longer even paying heed as the guards that lined the hallways snapped to attention as I neared. It was something that used to really get to me, but now I just ignored it. There was one guard on duty though that I noticed who sported two black eyes and a crooked nose. I stopped in front of him and watched as his eyes focused on the opposite wall as if he had never seen anything more important in his life.

"What's your name?"

He maintained his focused stare at a stone in the wall. "Mathews, Captain, Branson Mathews."

"Well Branson Mathews, I have some advice for you."

His chin went even higher. "Yes Captain?"

"Make sure you evaluate your target fully **before** you open your mouth."

He flushed, and nodded. I handed him a healing potion from my belt. "Drink that. Your _wife_ would be upset if your nose healed like that."

Even more blood coursed to his cheeks, but he took the vial.

"One more thing Branson Mathews."

"Yes Captain?"

"What happened would be a kindness compared to what I could do to you. Remember that."

He finally looked at me, grudging respect in his eyes. "Always, Captain."

I nodded and moved on towards the main hall.

Entering from the side door, I noted Bishop talking quietly in the corner to Uncus. I wondered briefly what they could be talking about. Uncus was a thief like me, but I knew he worked for Axle. There was something about him that made me uncomfortable.

Shrugging off the feeling I looked over the group of people standing in the great hall. Five men waited, dirty and disreputable. My kind of people. I watched them talking quietly amongst themselves. The one I took to be their leader was a huge man with fiery red hair and from what I could hear, a burr in his voice much stronger than Khelgar's. His thickly muscled arms bulged as he shifted impatiently, a testament to his ability to use the greatsword strapped to his back.

There was another dressed in plate that was etched with some unknown runes. A holy symbol of Lathander hung around his neck and the same symbol was engraved upon his mace. He spoke in a quiet even tone to the much larger man next to him. A small nervous looking man joined into the conversation every once in a while, mindlessly twisting the folds of his mages robe between his thin fingers. The other two men had their backs to me and I couldn't tell much about them other than one was in full plate and the other was lean with sandy blond hair, clad in leathers similar to my own.

"You there! Wench! We are here to see the Captain of this keep. Go get him, we don't have all day."

I stopped my perusal only to raise a brow at the rude demand issued from the pale haired cleric. Leaning against the wall as I was and fingers stained blue with ink, he must have taken me for a servant. Off from the corner I heard Bishop snort, his attention fully on us now. I smiled slowly. "At once good sir. I shall retrieve… the Captain," I said lowly, giving him a mocking bow. Amused, I disappeared back into the hallway, taking a short cut and coming around to the main entrance. Grinning at the guard that stood there I told him to announce the captain. Having heard the man's words just moments before, he laughed and nodded.

From my place in the doorway, I could see the whole room. I watched as he walked in and twice banged the end of his halberd on the stone floor for attention. The entire group turned to face him but my attention was on the cleric. "The Knight-Captain of Crossroad Keep," he intoned with ridiculous formality. I swept in and casually draped myself in the huge and uncomfortable throne-like chair that Kana had had placed for formal audiences. I had hated it at the time, but right now it seemed to be just perfect. Locking eyes with the pale blue ones before me, I raised my eyebrow. "You wished to see me?" I asked politely as a red flush came to his cheeks.

Booming laughter filled the hall as the giant of a man slapped the smaller one on his plate clad shoulder. "Oh, I like her Royce," he said between laughs. "It's not often that you mess up with a lass." If anything the pale man, Royce, turned an even deeper shade of red. I smirked to see it. Glancing at the red haired man and standing, I started to introduce myself. "Since there seems to be some confusion, let me introduce myself, my name is Ka-"

"Kat? Sweet little Kat? What in the hells are you doing here?"

That voice, I knew that voice. My gaze jumped to the speaker, the leather clad man I failed to recognize from the back. "Gavin," I managed to get out after I recovered from my initial shock. "It's been a while."


	48. Chapter 48

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 48

The light coming in from the window gave a shine to his short sandy-blond curls. He didn't look that much different. A little scruffier, a little thinner, but still with the same tall lean build that I remembered all too well. Gavin gave me a smile that at one point in time I had found devastatingly attractive, but now it just seemed… practiced. "Yeah, with the problems on the road, Galen didn't want to risk the trek out to West Harbor so I've been keeping myself busy." He looked pointedly around the newly grand hall. "As have you it seems."

"You could say that."

"When did you leave West Harbor to come here?"

"Right after it was attacked the second time, and before it was completely obliterated."

He looked shocked. "What? West Harbor is gone? But what about everyone who lived there?"

"Dead or missing." I was proud of myself. My voice was calm and unemotional, though perhaps it was a little flat.

"Your father?"

"Missing."

"Oh, my poor girl," he came forward as if to give me a comforting hug. I took an instinctive step back and tensed. Gavin frowned when he noticed my rigid stance but he didn't comment.

"What brings all of you here?" I asked, trying to cover the stressed moment.

"Lavious over there," he jerked his thumb at the small nervous man, "heard that there was a knight willing to pay good money for people to report on things they found as they moved around. I take it you're that knight?"

I nodded.

"I've got to say Kat, that this is certainly a surprise for me. I never pictured you as the type to be running an operation like this."

"Things change."

He gave me a searching look. "Perhaps they do," he said slowly. He lowered his voice, his next words for me only. "I'd love a chance to talk to you sometime before we head out. Maybe learn a little about these changes. For old times sake?"

I was wary. Gavin had always proved a welcome distraction when he came around with Galen on his trips to West Harbor, but a distraction was the last thing I needed right now. A glance out a glazed window showed me that the sun was sinking fast. It was too late to send them away now and skip all the problems that Gavin's presence could cause. "There is room for you and your crew to bed down here," I said finally, not answering his entreaty. "The keep's lieutenant can let you all know about the things we are looking for come morning. Dinner should be served soon if you all are hungry."

The look in his eyes sharpened, darkened familiarly. "Very."

I didn't pretend to misunderstand. "A lot of things have changed," I told him, very quietly.

Gavin nodded and went back to the men to tell them the evening plan. Motioning a guard over, I gave instructions for them to be given rooms. The man went over and bade them to follow. I risked a glance to the dark corner where Uncus usually was and saw Bishop watching Gavin closely, the expression on his face similar to the look of intense concentration he wore while hunting. As soon as the party was out of the room, the ranger looked at me with an unreadable face and left through an opposite door.

*****

When I came down to dinner, I discovered that with his usual charm, Gavin had managed to get himself and his compatriots situated at the table that we usually used in the great dinning hall.

Neeshka waved me over when she saw me hesitate in the doorway. "Kat! Come sit. Your friend was just about to introduce everyone."

I took the remaining empty seat, the one right next to my old friend. He smelled of leather and weapon oil, a comforting familiar scent, not much different than any of my current companions.

"So over there, that bull is called Seamus." The red haired man grinned at all of us. "Then there is Broadwick, a mercenary we picked up in our travels. He's kinda like a pox. We caught him somewhere and now he just won't go away." This time he gestured to the other plate clad figure that was now rolling his eyes at Gavin's description of him. "The little man who looks like a rat is Lavious, spellslinger." The aforementioned mage scowled and stabbed at a hunk of beef on the platter in the center of the table, dripping a trail of greasy juices all the way to his plate. "And of course you know Royce." This was said with a huge grin and the cleric reddened again. The blush grew deeper as Gavin proceeded to tell everyone just how my first interaction with the man had gone and riotous laughter spilled from our table.

The overly muscled red head, Seamus I remembered, asked about everyone else and I made a quick series of introductions. "There are a few more of us," I said as I finished up. "But Sand tends to get involved in his experiments and forgets to eat. Bishop comes and goes as he pleases."

"Speak of a devil," Khelgar muttered, looking at the doorway. Bishop was lounging there, looking over the room slowly. He spotted our full table and grabbing a chair from a different table, he dropped it backwards between Neeshka and Qara, directly across from me.

"And this is Bishop," I said as he straddled the chair, his arms crossing over the back of it.

Gavin gave him an appraising glance. "Ranger?" he asked. "Like your father?"

I snorted. "Nothing like my father."

"So tell us how you know our Captain." Bishop's voice was mild, almost friendly. I tensed. This was when he was at his most dangerous. I prepared myself for a verbal assault.

Gavin smiled, unaware of the murky waters he was treading. "Oh, Kat and I go way back." His arm reached out and draped over my shoulders in a friendly gesture and stayed there. "I used to work with a trader who would come through her village every now and then. Whenever I was in town, she and I would meet up and I would teach her a few little tricks. Lock picking, traps, things like that. She was younger then of course, all tumbled black hair, wide green eyes." He smiled at me. "Not to mention a tongue sharp enough to flay a man alive."

"I don't think the passage of time has dulled that sharp edge," Casavir said, smiling slightly. I stuck out the tongue in question and made a face at him.

"So you were her mentor."

The bright smile turned to Bishop. He laughed, a masculine laugh that spoke volumes. "That I was. I would probably say that I taught her everything she knows about getting her dexterous little fingers into places they shouldn't be." He winked at the ranger.

His arm tightened on my shoulders and he tugged me close to him. "My girl here was an excellent pupil. She was always good with her hands."

_Subtle, aren't you?_ I tried to disentangle myself, but there was no way I could do it without being obvious about it.

Neeshka looked from Bishop to me, her expression anticipatory as if waiting for something to happen. Bishop just smiled.

"So you came through her little hick village every six months or so like a sailor to port and spent time with our little captain?"

Gavin's grin faded to a frown. "That's not what I-"

I stopped trying to get out from under the arm holding me and relaxed into it. "Yes actually. Just like a sailor to port." I glared at Bishop defiantly. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see most of the others looking distinctly uncomfortable.

The frown was turned on me. "Come on now, you know it was never like that."

I smiled. _It was exactly like that. _"Gavin, I'm not a fool. I never was. Don't worry, it doesn't bother me. However, perhaps this isn't a discussion for the dinner table."

Talk turned to other things, but the discomfort was still palpable. Finishing most of my plate I rose. "If you all will excuse me." Without waiting for their answer, I escaped as quickly as possible. One of the few good things about being in charge is that I didn't always need to explain myself. I wandered through the keep under the pretence of examining the new fortifications. Sometime later I found myself on the curtain wall, leaning against a crenellation and staring off into the sky.

There were footsteps behind me. "Is this wall taken?"

I didn't look back. There was warmth at my side as Gavin came to stand close.

He turned me to face him. His grey-blue eyes sought mine in the bright light of the full moon. They held my gaze for a long moment. "You were right, you are different Kat," he said softly. "I see a hardness in your eyes that wasn't there before. What's happened?"

"Life happened."

He sighed and shook his head in admonishment. "You used to tell me things you know. We would talk for hours about what you wanted out of life. This," he gestured expansively to the courtyard below us, "was never mentioned before."

"Sometimes one's path goes a different way than you originally plan."

"I'm quite familiar with that." His tone was so different that I looked at him. There was a sense of self deprecation to him that wasn't there previously.

"What's happened with you?"

"Oh you know." he said a tad evasively. "Same old story. Wanderlust has had me going to this place and that, never having a place to really call home. I'm starting to get a little tired of living in my armor. Would kind of like a place to rest my boots. What about you? Sure you have this place, but I know you Kat. You can't be happy here."

"I'm as happy as I can be at the moment."

"Are you? Really? Looks to me like you're preparing for war. Who are you fighting, Kat? How is all this your responsibility?"

There was a moment where I wanted to tell him everything, the shards, the sword, the rituals, all of it. Something held me back though. "This isn't like the old days and I'm not the same woman who shared all of myself with you."

His hand reached out and cupped my cheek. The feeling was familiar but there wasn't the usual warmth that used to accompany that gesture. "You could be," he said softly.

"No, I can't," I said, just as softly.

"I know we haven't seen each other in a year, but it really could be like it was." His thumb was stroking my cheekbone now, a soft delicate brush of skin on skin.

"What, you coming by when you can?" I removed my face from his hand and snorted. "Sorry, I'm not interested in being one of your ports of call anymore. That was suited us both then, but now there are other things in my life better than waiting for you to come around."

"Ouch," he winced. "That's harsh, even from you. You know it was never like that."

"I said it already. I was never a fool. I was a girl from a little backwater village that you found amusing. Your teaching me locks and traps was just an excuse for you to charm your way into my bed."

He actually looked faintly hurt. "Is that what you really think?"

"Am I wrong?"

The hurt look changed to embarrassment. "Ah… Well… No, not exactly. It may have been a trick at first, but I came to really enjoy spending time with you. I liked teaching you those things. Like I said, you were an excellent student. Your skill could even surpass my own someday."

I snorted. "Already has."

He placed a hand over his heart with mock pain. "Sheath that tongue of yours. You've dealt a death blow to my pride."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"That you've hurt me?"

"That your pride could ever be killed." I thought about it. "For more than a few minutes anyway."

He tapped my nose with his finger. "See? I knew my Kat was still in there somewhere."

"Sorry to be the one to tell you, but I'm not _your_ Kat. I don't belong to anyone."

"Not even the ranger?"

That got another derisive snort from me.

"There's something between you two. I can tell." Gavin frowned. "I can't figure out what exactly, but there's something."

"Join the club," I muttered

"What would you even see in him? There's something… off about him."

I shrugged. "That something off makes him the best damn tracker in the Sword Coast."

"So it's just business with you two?" Gavin asked with heavy skepticism.

There was a telling hesitation before I could answer. _Damn, I don't even know what's with us, so how the hell can I explain it to my ex-lover?_ "I respect him," I said carefully. "He's far more honest about things than most people I know. There's a practicality and ruthlessness to him that I appreciate."

"All I know is that the few minutes I was in his company made my skin crawl."

"Then maybe you have a brain under all those curls." Old habits made me ruffle the tight curls in question. They were soft and warm under my fingers. He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips to press a soft kiss on the palm.

"Just be careful with him," he said seriously, releasing my hand. "I've seen his type before."

"It's kind of you to be concerned about me after all this time, but not necessary. I can take care of myself quite well."

"He'll hurt you without a second thought."

I laughed and it sounded dry even to my ears. "If all I had to worry about was him _hurting_ me, it would be a good day."

"He's threatened you?" Gavin sounded astonished. "And you allow him to stay with you?"

"He's threatened me, I've threatened him. It's a mutual thing."

"But something tells me he would actually harm you, where as you could never hurt another person like that."

I couldn't help it. I started laughing. The longer I laughed, the deeper his frown became.

"I'm glad I can still make you laugh," he said dryly.

The laughter faded to chuckles. "Yeah, you could always make me laugh."

"You don't do it as often as you used to, do you?"

That got another shrug. "Not as much reason to."

"I've heard rumors about something dark rising. Is all of this, this new you, because of that?"

"Perhaps this new me is who I always was, just a side you've never been able to see."

"You didn't really answer the question."

"No, I didn't."

"You're not going to tell me are you?" When I shook my head, he gave me a resigned smile. "Fine. Keep your secrets." He winked conspiratorially. "You'll tell me eventually."

"I doubt that. You're leaving in the morning."

"But now that I know you're here, I'm thinking I'll just bring the report back myself. I should be back in a few weeks. We can talk again then."

"Maybe." I returned my gaze to the starry sky. "You should go in. I know how you hate being cold."

"You could always keep me warm," he said with a bawdy grin.

I pointed back the way he came. "Go on and get. I'm sure you'll have no problem finding someone to warm you. Perhaps you can ask Qara, though be careful of your wording. You may just end in flames."


	49. Chapter 49

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

Chapter 49

*CLANG*

Sparks flew, accompanied by the sound of metal sliding over metal.

I spun past my victim's defenses and angled my short sword under his sternum. Flipping my wrist at the last second, I jabbed the pommel into his chest.

"Your heart is now skewered. Work on that."

The guard nodded and rubbed at the bruise I had left as a little reminder. "Who's next?"

A glance at the several guardsmen I wanted to spar against showed me they weren't looking at me, but past me. I looked over my shoulder to see Bishop watching with bored interest. I turned and held out my swords with a grin. "Want to dance with me? I promise not to step on your toes... Too much."

He gave a look at the guards behind me as he strolled casually onto the training field and they scattered like a flock of startled pigeons. "Where's your 'teacher'? I would think you would want to show him everything you've learned."

"Careful Bishop. Someone might think there's some jealousy under that snide tone. Why is that? Would you have preferred to be the one to teach me?"

"Hardly. I have no use for an untrained 'girl from a little backwater village'."

_Spying again ranger?_ I quickly thought back over last night's conversation and found other than my admitting that I respected him, there wasn't much said that I wouldn't say to him directly.

"Since you asked," I said out loud, deciding to ignore his comment. "They left early this morning."

"Sending more people to their deaths before you even have breakfast. I'm impressed by your efficiency."

That comment stung, just like he knew it would but I gave him a tight smile. "Are we going to dance pretty boy, or just stand around freezing?"

He slid both his longswords out of their sheaths and leveled them at me. I pulled out my other shortsword. I wasn't using my normal blades since this was just supposed to be practice, but I suddenly realized there was nothing practice about this. He came in fast and hard, blades moving in a graceful dance to blurred to appreciate. I ducked and dodged as he forced me on the defense.

Having fought side by side for months let us know each others strengths and weaknesses. I knew his left arm was fractionally slower than his right because of an old injury had caused some scar tissue to build up around the muscle. Unfortunately, he knew I was aware of that and was not giving me a chance to exploit it. My weakness was that I tended to leave myself open when I courter attacked and that earned me a slice to the ribs. My practice leathers parted like silk under his blade but there was no time to see if I was injured.

Our breath was starting to make little white puffs in the cold morning air as we danced, trading blow for blow. I lost my grip on one sword in an attempt to block a feint. I moved to block and his other sword came from the inside to rip it out of my hand. Before switching my remaining weapon to my dominant hand I landed a touch on his thigh. He scowled and refocused his attack.

Both longswords eventually tore my last blade out of my hand with jarring force. It was just too difficult to compete with his longer reach and his greater strength since I wasn't actually out for his blood. I raised my empty hands in a show of submission as he pressed the tip of his sword to my throat. "Looks like we finally proved who's better," he said mockingly.

I waited for the tip to retreat from my flesh before I moved. I dropped to a crouch and spun, kicking out as I did. My leg hit the back of his ankles hard, sweeping his feet from under him and sending him falling to the packed dirt. I was on him in an instant, straddling his hips and a small dagger dimpling the skin at _his_ throat. "Looks like," I said with a grin. "You know what?" I added as an after thought. "We tend to find our blades at each others throats quite often it seems. We really should work on that."

He knocked my hand away and glared.

"Although… There is something familiar about this position as well," I murmured as I settled myself more comfortably over his hips and dropped the blade to the side. The glare was still in place but the heat in it wasn't from anger. I could feel him thickening beneath me as I sat looking down at him thoughtfully. "I think I could get used to this, though the middle of the training field surrounded by guards wouldn't be my first choice of locations."

A muscle worked in his jaw. "Get off," he growled, his words a direct contrast to what his body was telling me. His hands came up to grip my waist, in preparation of tossing me off I suspected, but instead he seemed to press me tighter against him. A shiver coursed through me and it had nothing to do with the cold.

Someone cleared his throat nervously behind me. "Damn it," I muttered softly to myself. There was a small hitch in Bishop's breath as I twisted to see who wanted my attention. A small man bearing a strong resemblance to a weasel stood waiting for me. "Who are you," I snapped as I climbed off Bishop, my libido protesting mightily with each movement.

The scrawny man cleared his throat. "Oh, most noble Lady of Crossroad Keep, Hero of-"

I held out my hand to Bishop to help him off the ground and rolled my eyes. "Who the hell is this guy?" I asked.

Bishop picked up his weapons and lifted the man's chin with the tip of one. "I don't know, but the stuttering is irritating. Should I put him out of his misery?"

The man let out a high pitched squeak and raised himself on his toes, trying to avoid the blade so dangerously close to his vulnerable throat. "Wait! I-I-I am Khralver Irlingstar, delegate of Luskan. I come on behalf of Sydney Natale, ranking Mistress of the Hosttower of the Arcane."

We both stared at him, not impressed in the slightest.

"I bid you greetings from Luskan, your friend in the North."

"Friend in the north?" I snorted. "He must be a new jester. I hate jesters. Feel free to kill him."

Bishop smiled his cold smile and the man went even whiter. "No! Wait! I bare a message concerning your mission. Sydney Natale wishes to meet with you to share information she has obtained regarding a weakness of the Shadow Reavers." The words flowed out of him in a rush, his tongue tripping over itself in an effort to get them out.

"The last thing Luskan wanted to share with me was their gallows."

"Tha- That was the work of the old ambassador. The Hosttower knew nothing of a plan to frame you."

"Interesting. Considering that the ambassador and her employer were no longer in the scene when a Luskan assassination squad later decimated my home village."

"Reports told of plans set in motion before Garius was killed. There was nothing we could have done! We did not find out that he had charged them to that awful duty until it was too late. Mistress Natale offers her aid in part to make up for how Luskan wronged you while under the corrupt influence of Black Garius."

I looked at him thoughtfully. "What do you think Bishop? Think he's lying to save his skin?"

"He's Luskan. Of course he's lying."

"You're Luskan too!" Khralver squealed.

"Yes he is," I agreed with a cool smile. "But he's also the one holding the blade to your throat." I turned to walk away. "Try not to make a mess."

"Without this information, you can not hope to defeat the Reaver holding the last shard you seek!" He was nearly screaming now, his eyes rolling in terror. I paused and turned back to him.

"What do you know about that?"

"Nothing, my lady. My mistress will tell you all once you have met with her." He looked at me, nearly in tears. "Please your graciousness," he begged. "Mercy."

"By the gods, you're too pathetic to kill. It wouldn't be worth the time it took to clean your blood from my blade," Bishop spat, withdrawing his weapon in disgust.

"Well Khralver, congratulations. You got your mercy."

The man sank to his knees and babbled his gratitude.

Khelgar spotted us and came over, his nose bright red with cold. "Who's that man ya two are torment'n?"

"Luskan," Bishop and I said together.

"Oh," Khelgar said, looking at the man on the ground with distaste. "All right then."

In the time that it took for Khelgar to head back to the keep, Khralver seemed to pull himself back together. He got to his feet and brushed ineffectually at his clothing.

"Now, talk fast before I change my mind."

The little man was breathing much too quickly and I was faintly concerned that he would pass out prior to completing his message. "Sydney wishes to meet with you and two other of your companions in a neutral location, somewhere in Neverwinter's territory, but in a place were secrecy can be assured."

"Two others? She must be insane to think I would meet with any Luskan without all those loyal to me."

"She does not mean you any harm, however she can also not take the risk of this knowledge getting out. Loyalty can be bought and sold, and it is not a gamble she is willing to make. It is my understanding that Mistress Natale is keeping this quite secret, even from the Hosttower of the Arcane. My mistress has told me very little, but I believe that your... abilities and those of certain of your companions are required to exploit this weakness."

"Certain ones? Who?"

"The talented girl from the Academy... Qara. And the githzerai, Zhjaeve?"

"I know a trap when I smell one, and right now you reek of it little toady," I said flatly. "Tell me where to meet her and I will go on my own terms."

He shook his head. "Sydney will only reveal her location to me telepathically. She will know if I am being coerced."

I chewed on the inside of my lip in irritation and scowled. If the rat was telling the truth, then it was information I needed. But at the same time every sense that I had that alerted me to the presence of a trap was going off in my brain like the tolling of temple bells. _No mage that has climbed as far as that ugly cow would ever go against the Hosttower. Luskan likes nothing better than to knock people down if they go against their interests. As high as she is, she would fall __**hard**__. _I was considering my options so intently that I didn't even bother to snicker at my mental double entrendre.

A guard was standing duty at one of the Keep doors. With a jerk of my head I had him coming over to us. After a few clipped orders, he was off again to go find Zhjaeve and my hot headed little sorceress.

"You're a fool Captain."

Bishop had been watching the exchange quietly, spinning an arrow shaft between his fingers and just looking generally menacing until now.

"Perhaps, but remember what I said about help from unexpected places? Help from Luskan is what I would call pretty damn unexpected."

"The only help they want to give you is helping your vitals see the light of day," he said lowly.

"Trust me. I'm well aware of that."

Qara and Zhjaeve appeared and I gave them a rundown on what was happening.

"Why me?" Qara asked, voicing a question I had been turning over in my head for some time.

Much calmer now that there were more people around, ones he probably thought would save him if necessary, he raised his hands in a gesture that was meant to show his lack of knowledge. "Regrettably, I am not privy to that information. I was only given the mandate that I am not to return without the three of you."

Zhjaeve looked thoughtful. "I feel as though we should meet with this woman, _kalach-cha_. The King of Shadows poses such a threat that even an enemy state should wish to assist in his destruction."

"Fine," I said grumpily. I pinned Khralver with a hard stare. "If this is a trap, I'm going to be rather put out. You **don't** want to know what happens to people who make me feel put out."

The prominent apple in his throat jumped as he swallowed and nodded.

"Bishop, can you let the others know what's happening?"

"I suppose. I'm hurt that I'm not wanted, but I'll live. Have a fun trip, the three of you." Bishop drawled. "Try not to die too quickly."

"Not to worry," I said dryly. "I'll try and save that pleasure for you."


	50. Chapter 50

A/N: I've said it before, and I'll say it again. This story is now only using the game as a guideline. There are things that I leave out and things that I make up.

I appreciate and respect everyone's opinions and love the feedback, both good and bad. I just want to let people know that if you are looking for a story that follows the game play by play, then I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed.

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 50

With a foot I nudged Natal's body on to its back. Qara's last acid arrow had taken off part of Sydney's face, the lingering acid still burning through the flesh with a disturbing hissing sound. My arm hung limply at my side, blessedly numb at the moment, but I knew that soon the pain would start. Zhjaeve was still lying on the ground, unconscious but breathing.

"Is the rat dead?" I asked Qara as I attempted to search Sydney's body one handed.

She kicked Khralver hard in the ribs. The body rocked, but was immediately still again. "Doesn't get much deader.

Jalboun grinned. "I threw his death in for free. I never liked that little weasel."

"I've got what I needed," I said as I pulled a couple of items from Natal's corpse. I looked at my newly purchased mercenary. "Tell you what. You help us get Zhjaeve over there back to the Keep and I'll throw in another five hundred."

He grinned wider, displaying missing teeth. "You got yourself a deal Capt'n."

*****

By the time we returned to the keep I must have ground down at least half the height of my teeth. My arm was no longer numb, yes it most definitely not numb anymore. Not only that, but every deep breath I took sent a sharp pain through my ribs. Each step was agony and there was no fixing it till we got back to the keep. The cleric was still unconscious and was slung like a sack of barley over Jalboun's shoulder.

All of my healing potion vials had exploded in a sticky, slightly minty mess from one of Sydney's spells. It was the same spell that had flung Zhjaeve back against a large tree trunk and took her out of the battle. Qara fared better thanks to her protection spells, though both she and I had both landed on our rears. I was positive my armor now sported a large grass stained skid mark from my slide along with the huge wet and minty spot at my hip.

The gates opened and we came inside. "Zhjaeve needs a healer," I barked to a guard. "And someone find me a fucking healing potion."

Bishop was in the yard speaking with one of the other scouts Kana had hired. He made his way over, his eyes taking in our bedraggled group carefully. "You were feeling 'put out' I take it?"

"Yeah," I said through gritted teeth. "Most definitely put out."

Casavir came though the main doors, took one look at Qara and I and ushered us into the keep. "What happened?" he asked. "Who was the man carrying Zhjaeve?"

"Jalboun. He _was_ working for Natal. I made him a better offer."

The paladin took Zhjaeve from the mercenary, frowning at the rough way he had carried her. He looked her over, searching for any visible injury.

"The witch used a force wave that sent us flying. The gith's head hit a tree. We haven't been able to revive her and the shock also shattered all my potion vials," I offered. "She seems stable, just unconscious."

Neeshka and Khelgar came into the room as well. "That Luskan set a trap for ya lass?"

I nodded and watched as a healer came and picked up Zhjaeve to take her to the temple for healing. "We got there and found Jalboun," I used my good arm and gestured to the burly man, "there with Sydney. He was suppose to act as insurance, but luckily I was more persuasive than she was."

"You mean your gold was shinier than hers," Bishop said dryly. He was eyeing the new man with hooded interest. Jalboun was assessing the ranger in much the same way.

"That was a large part of it of course. Anyway, Sydney had found out something important about the Reaver. She found out its True Name."

There was a sharp intake of breath behind me. Sand had dug himself out of his work long enough to come see what the commotion was. "A True Name? Honestly? With that we have everything needed to not only destroy the Reaver, but to unmake him utterly."

"That's what she said."

"So why did she need Zhjaeve and Qara," Neeshka asked.

"Zhjaeve should be able to read the True Name, something that not many mortals would be able to do without extensive training," Sand said, as if it was obvious. "As to why she wanted Qara, well frankly, I have no idea on why anyone would want her around."

"Careful, you pointy eared freak. I made sure to save a spell just for you."

My sigh caused the sharp pain in my side to temporarily overshadow the throbbing in my arm. I grimaced and searched for the person who was supposed to be bringing me a healing potion. "Qara's father is the head of the Neverwinter Mage's Academy," I ground out from behind clenched teeth. "Something she neglected to mention. Daddy must have pissed someone off because the entirety of the student body was promised to the Hosstower for training if Qara was taken care of. Permanently."

Sand made an indelicate sound. "Qara has enemies?" he asked in mock amazement. "How ever could that be?"

I winced again and Casavir's sharp eyes caught the motion. "You're hurt my lady," he said with a frown.

"Yeah, arm's broken; I think a few ribs might be as well. Don't worry about it; you should make sure they don't need you to help with Zhjaeve. She's much worse off than I am."

He ignored my urging and took my forearm in his hands to run his fingers over it. He frowned again. "This will need to be set before it can be healed."

"Can you do it?"

He nodded. "It will hurt," he warned.

I took a deep breath and nodded my assent. He shifted his grip and made a sudden movement. I felt broken bone ends sliding over other broken ends. "Bloody buggering hell!" I squawked loudly. My arm pulsed with white hot pain until a warm blue light spilled from Casavir's hands and was seemingly absorbed by my flesh. I could feel the bone knit back together and I tested the arm experimentally. "You should have saved that for the gith," I muttered.

He smiled gently. "I still have some left for her as well. How are the ribs?"

The palm of my hand pressed on my side and I felt them move unnaturally under the skin. "Broken still, but they're in place." Neeshka handing me a potion from her own stock and I took it gratefully. Drinking it down I felt it work its warm magic. I stretched and twisted, smiling in relief.

"Thanks," I said to both of them. Casavir patted my shoulder and then left to check on Zhjaeve.

"You retrieved the True Name scroll I take it?" Sand asked.

"No Sand. I faced a mistress of the Hosttower, nearly got my ass handed to me, and then left in on her body."

"Yes, yes. You're very humorous." He held out a hand impatiently. "Now may I see it?"

I riffled through my things and pulled out a rolled up parchment. When I handed it to him his eyes glittered with lust. "Wow Sand. We could throw a naked woman in front of you and you wouldn't even blink. I give you a single piece of paper and get the impression you need a moment alone."

"Your sense of humor is quite droll sweet girl," he muttered distractedly, unfurling the paper. "But magical papers are far less hassle than women are. And you get so much more out of them."

"Hrmph. I'm really not sure if I should be offended by that comment."

"With the exception of you of course, my dear."

"Hey!" Neeshka exclaimed.

"Liar," I said, poking him hard on the arm. He swatted at me and continued to study the paper.

"What's with those two," I heard Khelgar mutter and followed his gaze to Bishop and Jalboun. They were still staring at each other.

"Is there a problem?"

Bishop switched his gaze to me. "It's interesting. For as much as you hate Luskan, you do tend to collect their rejects."

"And how's that?"

"Sand, myself, and now him. Didn't he tell you? He was a sergeant in the Luskan army before he was kicked out. Something about too much blood and too many obedience issues for even Luskan to deal with. He was good with a weapon though," he said grudgingly.

"So you two know each other?"

Jalboun grunted. "We served together for a while. Until he got shifted to the Circle anyway."

I stared at Bishop. "The mindless elite you mentioned," I said softly, more to myself than anyone else. This knowledge was something I had always assumed deep down, but to have that assumption confirmed hit me like a slap in the face.

"Everyone out," I said quietly. They took one look at me and left, taking Jalboun with them. I followed and shut the door behind them. Leaning against the sturdy wooden panels I crossed my arms over my chest.

"You were in the Circle of Blades," I said flatly. "Were you going to mention this at any point?"

"We all have pasts, even the perfect paladin." Bishop was snapping but he sounded almost… defensive? He gave me a cold hard look and my body came off the door of its own volition.

I stalked toward him, stopping inches away from him. "You recognized their work because you had done it yourself." My voice was emotionless, but my thoughts were roiling. "Tell me Bishop, how many Embers, how many West Harbors were there for you?"

"What does it matter? I wasn't the one who did those."

"How many?"

He glared at me and I returned the look. "One," he bit out.

"One? What, they let you have a trial run to see if it suited you and then they let you move on?" I could hear the mocking disbelief dripping off of each word. "Doesn't sound like Luskan to me."

"One mission before I killed every member of the squad."

My head rocked back. Of all the things he would say, that wasn't on the top of the list, though perhaps it should have been. "What happened?"

He sneered scornfully. "You open your legs and now I'm supposed to open my mouth? Sorry, _Captain_, it doesn't work like that."

The urge to slap him was almost overpowering. I clenched my fingers into a fist instead. It took me several moments of biting my tongue before I was able to respond. "Is them coming after you something I should be concerned about?" I asked, striving hard for calm aloofness, focusing on the larger goal and not my personal feelings. Right at that moment though, I really wanted to say to hell with the larger goal.

"It was years ago."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I've taken care of every one that they've sent. After the eighth message I sent them, the bounty hunters stopped coming."

I mentally raised an eyebrow. _Eight messages? Eight bodies more likely. _"Fine," I said coldly. "Will Jalboun be a problem?"

He thought about it. "I don't know. If he is, I'll take care of it."

With a curt nod I left him. I walked through the halls swiftly until I reached my office. A stack of papers rested of a chair and with a sweep of my hand I sent them flying. I sank down into it and buried my face in my hands. Bishop was in the Blades. He had been a member of the very group used to massacre my home. While he hadn't done it himself, there was still the illogical sense of betrayal that came with the knowledge. I didn't trust Bishop, yet at the same time I did. Still, that stupid sense of betrayal stung far more that I wanted to admit. Even to myself.


	51. Chapter 51

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 51

I was drunk. Mind-numbingly, world-spinningly drunk. It was nice.

Kana had found me in the tavern and had disapprovingly told me I was setting a bad example. I had then proceeded to drain an entire tankard and signal for another as I stared at her. She left without another word.

Neeshka came in next to sit with me. She took in the empty cups in front of me and frowned. I looked at her with blurry eyes. "So what's wrong Kat? You haven't drunk this much in forever."

"This in't mush," I snorted. "I can still speech. Sort'a."

I saw her shake her head at something over my shoulder and I scowled. "Shudn't 'av done that. I'm a grown woman. I can drink as much I want." I burped discreetly.

"Let's go."

"Nope."

"Kat." She was giving me that look. The look that said I was doing something stupid and would be paying for it in the morning. It was also the look that usually went from me to her. It sat oddly on her face.

I shook my head stubbornly. "Don't wanna, can't make me."

She got up and grabbed me under the arms. She was a lot stronger than she looked. "Hey!" I yelped. All of the guardsmen in the tavern were studiously avoiding looking at us. "Traitors," I called as she dragged me bodily from the building. "Not fair, you're to shrong," I grouched, rubbing at my arms.

She shrugged as she led me away. "Fiends blood. Has its advantages." Neeshka steered me towards a bench and sat me down when I started swaying. "Sit. Talk."

I laid down on the bench and rolled my head to look at her. The movement made my eyes blur even more so I shut them. "Can't talk, world to save." I paused. "Stupid freak'n world. Hate it. Should just let it rot."

I heard her leathers creak as she crouched down towards my eye level. "So why are you doing all this then?"

My eyes didn't open. "Gotta."

"Because it's right?"

I snorted. "There's no right, no wrong, only nesses… nessas… what needs to be done."

"So why do you have to do it?"

"'Cus Fate's a whore."

Neeshka snickered. "Seriously," she said. "You don't give a damn about fate, you've said it yourself. Why are you doing all this?"

"Why you ask'n me all these questions? Should'a let me get drunk in peace."

"I'm curious. You've lost so much and yet you keep going. I don't understand why. You're not like the goody goods who march on because you want to save everyone."

I shrugged against the cold bench and the world swam. "Screw everyone. I'm shelfish. Like the world as it is. Don't want it to get eated up. Would be bloody irritating, running for the rest of my life, trying to stay one shtep ahead. Might as well fix it now and be done with it."

"Makes sense I guess."

I heard her teeth start to chatter and I opened one eye. "You're cold."

"Well, yeah. It's nearly winter."

"Huh," I grunted. "Can't feel it."

"We should get inside before we both freeze our tails off."

"Don't got one."

"What?"

"No tail. Kinda wish I did. Yours is neat."

"Thanks. I think. Let's go inside."

"Nope. Quite comfy right here. Not moving."

"Don't make me get someone to carry you."

I scowled, or at least I tried to. It might have been a little sloppy.

"I'll get Bishop," she threatened. "I've seen him carrying your ass more than once."

I was confused. My brain valiantly tried to remember, but everything was so warm and fuzzy it was hard. I latched on to something. "Nuh-uh. It was only once. Right after we got back from take'n out the Luskan trash."

"And the other night, after Shandra died."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

I tried to sit up. When my stomach protested I quickly laid back down. "I didn't know who put me in the shpare room. Thought it was Cas."

"Nope, it was your boy. He didn't see me, or I would probably be dead right now."

"Count'n bodies like sheep to the rhythms of the war drums," I muttered.

"Alright, you're more drunk than I thought."

"It's a song."

"Strange song."

"I like it. It's sutib… subit… it fits."

"Fits who?"

"Both of us." I opened both eyes. "So many bodies. Can count them instead of sheep when I can't sleep. He can too."

"Is he why you decided to try and drink even old rumble belly under the table?"

"You ask lots of questions."

"Would you tell me if you were sober?"

I smiled. "Prob'ly not."

"Didn't think so."

"Bishop was in the Circle of Blades," I said quietly after she looked at me expectantly for a long while.

"Does it bug you?"

"Yes. No. Don't know."

"Does it change anything?"

"Don't think so."

"Then why are you getting drunk about it?"

"Circle destroyed my home."

"But he didn't. Plus he helped you find the people who did."

I scowled again, and I think I got it right this time. "Are we in a parallel plane? I'm drunk and you're sober. And you're being all logical. It's annoying."

Neeshka laughed. "See what it's like being around you?"

"Hrmph."

She put my arm around her shoulders. "Come on, let's go. It's freezing out here." She tried to draw me up with her and grunted. "Gods, for being so skinny, you weight a ton."

"Wimp."

The tiefling let me sit back down. "Stay there."

"Never wanted to move in the first place," I muttered. Neeshka disappeared into the shadows of the night. I watched the stars for a while until they seemed to move to quickly. After that I had to shut my eyes and swallow my stomach. It was a little while later that I heard two sets of footfalls. I pried open one eye. Neeshka was standing with Bishop, arguing.

"Look, she's completely tanked and I can't get her to move."

"How is that my problem?"

"It's your fault she's drunk."

"Again. How is that my problem?"

"What did you get him for Neesh? I can walk." I sat up to prove it and got unsteadily to my feet. I managed a few steps in the direction of the keep and next thing I knew, I was on my butt on the cold hard ground. "Shit," I said softly.

"See?"

Bishop snorted. "So she's drunk, so what?"

"Bishop, its freezing out here. She's going to get sick."

"Can't get sick, I'm healthy as an ox." I felt my gorge rise and scrambled on all fours to the bushes. The next several minutes were spent riding my body of the toxins that I had thought so wise to put in there in the first place. I sat back and looked down at myself when I was done. I had managed to avoid getting any on me. "See?" I said exhaustedly, though my words were slightly less slurred now. "Healthy as an ox."

"Look, I'll pay you."

Bishop started to walk away. "Get someone else. I'm not her nursemaid."

"I suppose I could get Casavir. He would be happy to help her," Neeshka said casually. "Get her up to her room, take care of her. Lecture her on the dangers of overindulging. Would make him feel pretty damn good I would think."

Bishop stopped in his tracks.

"Never know. It may be the push she needs to get her on the right course. Before you know it she would be rescuing kittens and helping old ladies."

"You owe me," I heard him growl at her in passing.

My shoulder was grabbed in an iron grip and I was hauled roughly to my feet. "Ow, hey! Let go, I can walk."

"So walk."

I stumbled a few more steps before I tripped over my own feet. Only the bruising grip on my shoulder kept me from going down. I swore under my breath. "Never drinking again," I muttered.

"I've heard that before."

"You've probably said it yourself."

"Maybe."

"Then again, I don't see you getting drunk enough to say that. Too much alcohol and you would let your guard down. Can't have that now can we? No, the mighty Bishop can never be weak. He's to busy trying to intimidate everyone to actually have some fun." My mouth was running so far ahead of my brain that I couldn't even see it anymore. Perhaps I should have reined it in because when I looked glanced over at the man holding me up; he looked anything other than amused.

"Awww, what's with the frowny face Bishop?" _And there goes my mouth again._

The iron grip on my shoulder tightened and fingers dug in painfully. He propelled me more quickly through the keep. Being dragged up stairs was particularly unpleasant. "What the hells is your problem?" he growled at me.

"My problem? You're my problem," I snapped back as he tossed me through my dark doorway and came in after me. "Do you have any idea how confusing you can be? Half the time I want to toss you down and kill you, and the other half I want to toss you down for other reasons. It's bloody annoying." I thought about what I just said and flushed. "Plus I'm drunk. That's also my problem. What in the hells is _your_ excuse?"

With a hard shove he sent me stumbling backwards. The rear of my knees hit the bed and I half fell, half sat down onto the mattress. "Oh, wait I know," I said mockingly as he started stalking to the door. "Your excuse it that Duncan has a debt on you. That's always your freaking excuse. Let me guess. Duncan found out you were in the Blades and is holding that over your head?"

The room was lit only by the light of the full moon but I could see that Bishop froze for a moment before reaching out a hand to slam the door ominously. He turned slowly to face me, his shadowed expression as hard and cold as carved ice. His back rested against the door, trapping me in the room with him. A thread of anxiousness managed to penetrate the fog in my brain.

"Taking after your uncle are you? Getting drunk and running your mouth on things you know nothing about," he said dangerously.

"Then tell me about them," I challenged.

He seemed to think consider it. "Fine, but don't blame me if it give you nightmares." Bishop started stalking the room like a restless panther, honeyed eyes glittering in the moonlight. "Duncan found me a few years ago outside a crappy little Luskan village. I was on my way out and the bastard shoved healing potions down my throat when I was unconscious. When I came to I was in his rat hole of a tavern leagues away from Luskan."

"So he saved your life."

"Yeah."

"Hence the debt he feels you owed him."

He snorted, but there was no humor in it. "Not quite. I didn't mention that when he found me, I was surrounded by all the members of my squad. They were all dead by my hand, every last one of them. The lieutenant, the captain, all of them. Somehow your damn uncle knew what we were. He never mentioned why he felt the need to save _me_ though. We all were wearing the same armor. I looked no different that any of them."

"The Blades," I said neutrally. There was a lot more to his story, I could tell from the way he was moving around. "And the village behind you?"

"In flames. Every last occupant dead in the streets."

"Maybe he thought you had tried to help the people."

"Hardly," he scoffed. "Considering I was the one to pick the village. You could call it my initiation and a gift all in one."

"What village was it?"

Bishop was silent for a while. "Red Fallows Watch," he said at last, very quietly.

"Why that one?"

"I had my reasons."

There was a moment of such blinding clarity that I suddenly knew what Red Fallows Watch was. It was his home. He needed to chose a village to destroy for his initiation and he chose his own home. He razed it, and then he proceeded to slaughter the immediate cause of the destruction. _And I thought I had issues._

I reflected on that for a while. Thought about the past that he had to have had to make him choose to destroy his own home. An image popped into my head of a boy from West Harbor, one a little older than me. When we were both small, his father had taken to beating him when he drank. The boy grew up mean and hard, with a penchant to cause pain to others. He really wasn't that different that Bishop.

Looking to where amber eyes glittered in the darkness across from me, I swallowed, suddenly feeling perfectly sober. "I'm sure you did," I said softly.

For a moment we seemed to connect on a level more complete than even the night in the woods. We did what was necessary to survive and to protect ourselves. What was right and what was wrong wasn't so much the important concept as what was needed. We both understood that.

He looked away as if he couldn't bare the connection. "What, no lecture about killing every living person in a village?" he asked mockingly, pulling hardness around him like a cloak.

"No," I responded simply. I gave him back his words and added my own. "We all have pasts, and we all have reasons. Who am I to judge yours?"

Bishop made an odd noise, part scoff, part grunt, part snort. I saw him shake his head once in the low light then leave, pulling the door shut firmly behind him.


	52. Chapter 52

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 52

_Please let the Reavers attack. Please let the King attack. Something. Anything so I can stop looking through these damn books._

"Kathrynn."

"I'm searching Sand. Really I am. Put the whip away please," I muttered, not opening my eyes and not raising my forehead which was resting on the open book before me.

"I'm sure you are, however I have some bad news."

"What?" I groaned, my voice muffled by the pages.

"Kana's scouts found the shadow reaver camp. Looks as though you are needed there."

That brought my head up. "Really?" I said hopefully. "You're not just messing with me?"

"No my dear, I am not. I know how disappointed you are to be pulled away from your research, but Kana says that these Reavers may be the ones that hold the shard."

I got up with unseemly haste. "Yes, yes, horribly disappointed, but duty calls you know."

Sand rolled his eyes and made a little shooing gesture. "Off with you."

My feet were carrying me out of the library before Sand had a chance to change his mind. I found Kana in the main room in discussion with her scout and some of the others. "Sand said you found something?"

She nodded. "Barrik here has located a Reaver camp close to the keep itself. Their movements have been unusual compared to the other camps we have seen. There appears to be one main leader at this camp, not just a group of minions. You need to go and check it out as this may be the camp holding the shard you wanted."

I nodded. "Fine by me. Any more research and I was going to go mad. We'll leave immediately. Someone go get Zhjaeve. If this is the Reaver we're looking for, she'll need to come. Khelgar, Cas, you'll come with me won't you?"

Khelgar grinned and fingered his weapon eagerly. Casavir inclined his head in a short bow. "Always my lady."

"Wonderful." I turned to Qara. "You always complain that we leave you behind. Want to go and roast a dead guy?"

She snapped her fingers and flame jumped to their tips. I shook my head. "I take it that that overly dramatic response was a yes?"

"No," she drawled sarcastically. "I'd rather stay here with the elf and listen to him lecture me."

"Well, if you'd really rather, we could arrange that."

"Funny."

I looked around. "All we need now is Bishop and we can take off."

Kana cleared her throat. "Bishop was spotted leaving the Keep a few nights ago and he hasn't returned yet."

_A few nights ago? He must have left after my little drunken episode. Looks like too much sharing put him to flight._

"Besides," Kana continued, a tad reproachfully as she indicated the scout by her side. "Barrik is the one who found the camp and the only one who can lead you to it. If you are taking any scout with you, it needs to be him."

I eyed the slender leather clad man with a frown. I much preferred traveling and fighting with people I knew I could trust at my back. Other than a few glimpses around the keep, I had never seen this man before, never evaluated his abilities. "Fine," I said grudgingly. "Lead us to the camp, and then try not to get killed. Got it?"

He nodded. "Of course, Captain." His voice was surprisingly low for someone of his size. That and the way he was looking at me with barely disguised amusement had me giving him a hard look. "I shall endeavor to be as useful to you as your normal tracker."

I heard the multiple meanings in his tone and rolled my eyes. _Had everyone heard about me and Bishop?_ "Alright funny man," I muttered, trying not to blush. "Lead the way."

*****

The camp was before us and it had only three inhabitants.

"Is that reaver… bigger… than the others?" Qara whispered.

I stared down at the camp. "Much."

'Much' seemed to be an understatement. Although the head and shape of the skeletal creature in the camp resembled a human, had he ever been a man, he would have been over seven feet tall. Or maybe it was just the two blade golems flanking him that made him seem so huge. That was also a possibility, I had thought hopefully though I sincerely doubted it.

"What's the plan?" Khelgar asked.

"Qara, can you start us off with a nice big fireball?" When she nodded I looked at Zhjaeve. "You need to stay out of sight and read that name, got it?"

She nodded as well. "_Know_ that it may take longer than you expect for the name to be uttered."

"It's a name, not an epic poem."

"It is a name, but not one as you _know_ it. Be warned that it will take some time."

I shrugged. "You _know_ best," I said, making sure to stress the word just as she did. There was a soft chuckle from Barrik. "And you," I reminded him. "Try not to get killed. I really don't want to listen to lecture I would get from Kana."

He grinned at me, blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

I pulled out my weapons and nodded. "Let's go."

"Aren't you gonna talk to them first?" Khelgar asked.

"Nope. I know what they will say. Blah Blah, you're doomed. Yadda Yadda, give up. Grumble grumble, our lord and master will take over the world. I'd rather use the element of surprise and just take the shard off their corpses."

Khelgar thought about it then pulled out his own weapon with a blood thirsty smile. "Works for me."

I waited for Zhjaeve to hide and pull out the scroll. "Qara, let it rip."

The flame haired sorceress moved into position and began chanting under her breath. A ball of fire bloomed in her hand and she wound her arm back. She tossed it with an agility that would make any stick-ball player envious. Flame soared through the air and landed on the three figures. An explosion rocked the camp and we took that as our clue to rush into the fray.

The time that the element of surprise bought us was surprisingly short. The Reaver began casting spells before we had even reached him. The blade golems, while looking slightly singed, didn't even metaphorically blink at the sudden rain of fire.

Weapons flashed and blood flew, though considering my little group was the only one that contained any of that red fluid, perhaps that wasn't such a good thing. Casavir landed a blow to the reaver and the skeletal figure staggered, nearly dead. The shadow reaver made a horrid noise and straightened, the wounds we had already inflicted on him magically closing.

"What the fuck?"

"The true name," Barrik gasped as he dodged a blow next to me. "We have to use the true name."

"Zhjaeve," I shouted. "Read FASTER!"

Khelgar hacked madly at one of the blade golems and I rushed to join him. "Everyone on the golems!"

We concentrated our efforts and one of the sharp edged constructs fell in a clatter of metal and a scraping of honed blades. All of us turned to the remaining golem and the reaver took that time to search for our hidden Githzerai. He headed toward the tree that hid her and I broke off from the fight to go after him. It turned out my help wasn't even needed because at that moment icicles the size and shape of dragon's teeth fell from the clear sky. The chill they brought with them was a wind that would put the frigid gusts of Icewind Dale to shame. An ice spike imbedded itself not two inches from my foot and I found myself running back to the blade golem to get clear of the dangerous missiles.

In the center of the ice storm a column of fire fifteen feet tall struck the reaver dead on. Zhjaeve was done reading and was ready to join in the fight. The last golem fell and we descended on the reaver like a pack of maddened wolves. The blue flames encircling the reavers head dimmed as we fought until finally, at last, they winked out entirely. The body crumbled to an ungracious heap at our feet as whatever force that was animating it was snuffed out.

Weapons still poised, we looked down at the pile of bones. The air was still now except for the sounds of our ragged breathing. "Think its dead?" Khelgar asked. "Again?"

I held out my hand for Khelgar's axe and he handed it to me. Swinging it over my head I brought it down with a sickening crunch on the thing's neck, severing the white grinning skull. "Yep. It's dead."

There was low voiced chanting behind me, Zhjaeve patching up someone's torn flesh. I rummaged through the robes of the reaver searching for the last shard. The sliver in my chest seemed to almost vibrate in excitement, a rather discomforting feeling when coming from the inside of a ribcage. My hand hovered over a pouch and the vibrations rose to a near frenzied pitch.

"Gottcha," I whispered, my fingers pulling open the draw string and pulling out a little sliver of silver. For a moment the vibrations actually seemed to interfere with my heart beat before the muscle righted itself and continued its steady rhythm.

I held it aloft. "Looks like it had what we came for."

Casavir reached for it and turned it over and over in his hands. "I can almost hear it humming," he said, looking at it curiously. "There is a tremor in this one that there wasn't in the others."

"If you think it feels strong to you, you should feel what the one in my chest is doing." I rubbed at my scar. "It's making the whole area all itchy." Looting what was left of the bodies, I straightened and stretched. "Let's go back. I want to separate these two shards. The sensation is going to drive me insane if it keeps up."

We gathered up what we could take and prepared for the short journey back to the keep. "Everyone," I said cheerfully as we started to walk back. "We did well. Even you Barrik," I added after a brief pause. "Good job on not dying."

"Careful with your magnanimous praise Captain, you might make me blush," he said dryly.

I made a face and though bleeding and sore, we returned home in high spirits.


	53. Chapter 53

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 53

"You made it back in time!"

Neeshka was bouncing happily, her face glowing with excitement. "In time for what?"

"The party, remember? The solstice is tomorrow. Don't tell me you forgot."

"Sorry," I said, tossing down my pack. "Got a little distracted by the undead guy who was holding the last of my shards."

"Oh, you found it?"

I tossed it to her and her nimble fingers plucked it out of the air. "Wow," she breathed. "It's all tingly." She tossed it back to me. "Now on to more important things."

Neeshka put her arm over my shoulder and started leading me up to my room. "What more important things?"

She winked conspiratorially. "Both Bishop and your friend Gavin are back in time for the party as well."

"That's more important?"

"No, the important thing is figuring out what you are going to wear tomorrow!"

*****

The music could be heard in all parts of the keep. Neeshka had managed to find a group of musicians that were still unbooked this holiday and it wasn't hard to figure out why. Why they most certainly were not the best group in existence, they had to be the most enthusiastic. After a few mugs of the solstice cheer that Khelgar had whipped up people no longer seemed to even hear any of the missed or incorrect notes.

The furniture in the great hall had been cleared away, making room for dancers and there were plenty of those. Neeshka had been concerned about the ratio of the male soldiers to the much smaller number of females so she had sent out a few envoys to some of her old contacts. I had never even seen the majority of the women down there, but the distinction between the local girls and the much more flamboyant friends of my little tiefling was clear. I had a feeling that those women didn't come from the local temple charterhouses. The men seemed happy though and I wasn't of a mind to say anything to ruin that.

My elbows resting on the railing, I was keeping an eye on everything from the balcony ringing the upper level of the hall. The soft patter of leather boots came from behind me.

"I told you I would come back to make the report myself."

I glanced over my shoulder and grinned. "Gavin. Glad you could make it back in time for this. Are you enjoying yourself?"

He gave me a mock frown. "I'm afraid not."

"Really. And why is that?"

Gavin heaved a dramatic sigh. "Because the prettiest girl here is hiding her self way from all the fun."

I laughed. "Still think you're charming after all this time don't you?"

"Of course I'm charming. That's why you won't be able to resist me when I ask you to dance."

"Is that so?"

He pulled me away from the railing. "Come dance with me," he said in a cajoling tone.

I cocked my head in consideration. "I'll think about it."

"What? Is holding up that railing more important that having fun?"

I shrugged and he looked me over carefully. "I know what's wrong," he said. "This is the first time you've been out of armor in a while isn't it?"

My cheeks flushed and I turned back to look over the banister. "I don't know what you mean."

He rested his hands on my shoulders and leaned into my ear, his warm chest pressing lightly against my back. "Being out of that armor makes you feel naked doesn't it?" His mouth hovered over my neck. "Makes you feel vulnerable?" I shivered slightly and felt his lips twitch into a smile.

"You're treading dangerous waters my friend," I warned softly. "And I've already told you I'm not going to swim in those currents with you."

"Seeing you like this makes me willing to risk the undertow." Gavin's voice was a husky murmur, his tone seductive.

I turned away from his embrace and laughed, cocking an eyebrow. "'Risk the undertow?' That's a line I hadn't heard from you before. I'm impressed. How long have you been saving that?"

He looked embarrassed. "I should have known sweet words don't work on you. Well, it was worth a try. You do look great by the way."

I glanced down at the burgundy velvet dress that Neeshka had found somewhere. It was much lower cut than what I was used to, and it didn't help that the little fiend had somehow managed to talk me into wearing a black leather corset over the sumptuous fabric. My chest was threatened to escape if I took to deep of a breath. Luckily, or not, depending on how I felt at the moment, she had laced the deceptively delicate looking ribbons so tightly that breathing too deeply was an impossibility. I had worn armor than had shrunk that allowed me more freedom than this outfit. I did have to admit though the red and black looked rather striking against my pale skin, with my green eyes and dark hair. That was probably why I didn't fight harder to be allowed to wear my armor.

"Thanks, you don't look to bad yourself."

He smoothed a hand down his midnight blue tunic and flashed me a cocky grin. "I know. Now, why don't the two best looking people here go dance."

I placed my hand in his held out palm and rolled my eyes. "Confident and delusional. It's funny how time doesn't change some things."

Gavin tugged me down the stairs and drew me to the dance floor. The musicians were starting up a spirited, if off-key, reel just as we got there. With a hand at my waist and one gripping my fingers, he led me around the floor, weaving in and out of other couples. "I remember teaching you to dance," he said with a smile of remembrance. "You've gotten much better since then."

"Hardy," I snorted. "I'm just following you and trying not to trip on my feet."

"When I said you'd gotten better, I merely meant my toes weren't broken yet. By now you would have steeped on them several times."

"Ha Ha," I said dryly. "Aren't you amusing."

"Uh oh."

"What's wrong? Is Khelgar getting into a drinking contest with the soldiers again?"

His arm spun me out and pulled me like a top back to him, my back against his chest, his arm around my waist. "Looks like someone else isn't having fun."

I looked in the direction he was pointing me and noticed Bishop leaning casually against a wall, one foot braced against the stones, a glower marring his handsome face. One of Neeshka's friends sauntered up to him and whispered something in his ear. He returned with something that had her flouncing off in a huff looking offended. "Naw, he always looks like that." Gavin twirled me back around and I could almost feel a stare burning a hole in my back.

"You sure? Because it looks as though he is contemplating the best way to kill me and dispose of my body without getting blood on any of the dancers."

"He wouldn't do that."

"No?"

"Of course not. He wouldn't care how much blood got on anyone else."

"Well that's comforting." He pulled me closer and his mouth moved against the loose curls of my hair so that no one could see what he was saying. "Be careful. I don't trust him."

"You don't trust him, or you don't like him?" I asked lightly.

"Both." He frowned. "I don't know what exactly is between the two of you, but he's always watching. His eyes are…" Gavin looked for the right word. "Possessive, whenever he looks at you."

"See that's where you're wrong. Bishop doesn't give a damn about anyone other than himself."

We made a wide arc around another group of dancers. "Word around here though is that you slept with him anyway."

I raised a brow. "Jealous?"

Gavin's frown deepened. "Yes," he said honestly.

"You have no reason to be."

"So you didn't sleep with him?"

"No, I did. But there's just nothing between you and I that gives you any right to be jealous."

"Damn it Kat, you know I cared for you."

I reached up and touched his cheek. "I know," I said softly.

"Looks like the lady isn't enjoying your company," a deep voice said behind us. "How about I step in and show her how to have fun."

We both turned to look at the burly farmer. His cheeks were ruddy with drink and his eyes were much too shiny. Gavin and I glanced at each other and shrugged. He handed me to the man with a mocking bow. "It's your funeral," my ex-lover said dryly.

The farmer's big hands wrapped around my waist and he spun me back into the crowd of dancers. I kept up as best I could, but it appeared he couldn't dance any better than I could though he was much more enthusiastic about it. I could feel the velvet of my dress crushing under his sausage like fingers, dampening under his sweaty palms. His breath stank of ale as he grinned at me. "A pretty thing like you should be in the arms of a real man, not that skinny little twig." As he spoke, I had a sudden concern that my eyebrows might melt from the alcohol fumes.

I made a non-committal noise and tried to put a little distance between me and the drunken fool that was gripping me. I felt his hands start to drift from my waist down to my backside. I thought longingly of the dagger strapped to my leg. _One more inch and I'll cut off your dick and sew it to your forehead._

He obviously didn't see the warning in my eye because his hand drifted down and squeezed my butt as he leered at me. I shifted and prepared to lift my skirt in front of everyone to get at the blade when the man suddenly released me. He began backing away quickly, a frightened look on his face. I was left alone in the middle of the dance floor, confused and relieved. Familiar arms pulled me around and I found myself pressed hard against an equally familiar chest.

"If you wanted to dance, you could have just asked me," I muttered, my voice muffled against forest mottled leather armor.

Bishop gave me a hard look as he led me through the dance steps. "If you preferred, I could leave and let him get back to fondling you. Doesn't matter to me either way." He pulled away as if to leave the dance floor.

I tightened my grip on his hands to hold him back. "No. Thanks for scaring him off. That seemed more efficient than what I was planning on doing."

"And what were you planning on doing?"

"You know, cutting little bits of him off till he got the hint. I was afraid that some of the other people here might take exception to that though. It is the holidays."

We danced for a while before Bishop spoke. "I don't trust him."

"The farmer?"

"No, your mentor." He spat the words like they left a foul taste in his mouth.

"Well you don't trust anyone so how is he different?"

He glared over my bare shoulder. "I know shit when I smell of it. He's full of it."

I choked on a laugh. "I could have told you that."

"He's hiding something," Bishop muttered darkly.

"We all hide things."

"You're not." To emphasize his point he eyed my exposed cleavage coolly. "Where did you find that dress? Steal it from one of the doxies?"

I felt a flush creep up the back of my neck and it was my turn to try and leave the dance floor. His fingers squeezed my hand tightly and the hand at my waist clamped down. I was effectively trapped as he hauled me closer to him. "You've been giving everyone a show with that dress, so why don't you just take it all the way off? It would be less suggestive."

"Well well, I would have never guessed that you of all people would be a prude," I said as I glared at him. The music swelled as it neared the end of the song. The last part of the dance called for me to place my hands on his shoulders and for him to lift me. His fingers met together at my back as he palmed my waist. My feet left the ground and as the music ended, I waited for him to set me back down. I looked down into his face, suspended in the air. "Or is that just your way of telling me I look nice?"

Instead of setting my down on my toes, he let me slide down the length of his body. My thighs rubbed against his as I came down, my nipples hardening as they brushed against his chest. I couldn't disguise the shiver of longing that tremored through my body and into his hands. This shiver put any that Gavin had ever caused to shame. A dark promising smile spread across his lips and I could feel the evidence how much he actually liked my dress. Everything around us disappeared and in that moment, I knew exactly how the deer feels before the wolf's teeth close on its throat.

Bishop bent his head and bit lightly on my shoulder with his strong white teeth. "It has its uses," he murmured against my skin. The ring of the bite stood out like a brand, a mark of possession. Air tickled over my flesh as he pulled my scent in through his nostrils.

There was a silent presence at my back but Bishop didn't bother to raise his head from my shoulder. "Get your own, old man," he growled.

"I had my own, and she was taken from me," said a quiet and distinctive voice. "But this one will never belong to rabid dog like you. I taught her better than that."


	54. Chapter 54

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 54

I spun to stare mutely at the man behind us. "Daeghun," I said at last. "You're alive."

"So this is dear old dad eh?" Bishop draped an arm over my shoulders and let his fingers come around to play lightly over my exposed scar. "Isn't this interesting."

"You are Bishop." The words were flat. I was so frozen in shock that I could only watch the two men size each other up.

"Yeah, I am."

My father looked at me. "I see your taste in men has degraded even further."

"Oh, there are all sorts of degradations when she's with me," Bishop said with dark suggestion. "Remind me to tell you just how far your little girl has come recently." That statement jolted me out of my still state.

Other dancers were starting to stare at us curiously and this certainly wasn't a conversation I wanted to have in the middle of all these people. I jerked my head to indicate that Daeghun follow me and headed out of the great hall and down to my office while trying not to trip on the long skirts of my dress. I held the door open and started to shut it once he entered. Bishop slipped in smoothly before I had a chance to close it all the way. "I wouldn't miss this little homecoming for the world," he said slyly, oozing past to perch on the corner of my desk.

Daeghun watched the two of us closely as I leaned against a wall. My thoughts were turbulent. Here was my father alive after all this time of not knowing. Part of me was happy he was here, the other part was angry that he had let me wonder about his welfare for so long. The emotions fought on my face, a smile and a frown both trying to gain dominance.

"I see your armor has become less practical since you've been gone," Daeghun said dryly, eyeing my dress critically.

Anger won. "Why hello to you too, father. Good to see you. Glad that you're alive. Thanks for letting me know so soon after I buried everyone else. I've been fine, nice of you to ask."

"Snapping at me will not fix anything daughter."

"No? It sure as hell makes me feel better."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Bishop smirking at the both of us. Daeghun turned his steely gaze to him. "You are unnecessary. Leave."

Before Bishop could open his mouth I issued my own flat order. "If he wants to stay, he stays."

My father looked at me and like a child again, I had the horrible urge to explain myself. "He's been at my side through all of this, unlike you. He's the one who was able to track down who destroyed our home and he's the one who helped me take care of those who did it. He's earned the right to witness this little family gathering if he wants to." I paused and realized something. "You _do_ know West Harbor is gone don't you?"

He nodded. "I was out scouting some rumors of a spreading darkness when it happened. By the time I returned, you had already come and gone."

"And you never thought to let me know you were alive after that?"

"Other duties demanded my attention. You carried on well enough though I have heard disturbing reports about your recent actions."

"And which actions are those?"

"I've been told that you've murdered the man who completed the last ritual of purification you needed."

"Murdered?" I clarified calmly. "I prefer to say I executed the man whose actions caused the destruction of West Harbor, the death of his blood kin, the slaughter of my mother and of your wife. But," I added sarcastically, "It's nice to know you've been keeping track of me, even though _duties_ wouldn't allow you me the courtesy of letting me know you were still alive."

He barely flinched at my harsh words but there was a tightness at his eyes that wasn't there before. "You are an adult and fully capable of taking care of yourself. You don't need me to hold your hand, though perhaps I should. Had I had been here, I would never have allowed your vengeance to unfold like this."

_Hold my hand?_ I scoffed mentally. _The only time you ever touched me was when you were teaching me to fight or patching up my wounds._

I remembered the times in my childhood when all I needed was to be held. Like the time that the Mossfields had said cruel things about my mother. I was five and when I went back to the house in tears, Daeghun had just looked at me and told me the world could be a cruel place. I was left standing in the middle of the kitchen, tears dripping off my chin as he walked out of the house. I had found out years later that he had went to have a chat with the brothers, in fact had frightened them so much with his quiet intensity that they never made remarks like that again. As a child though all I could think of how much I wanted for him to hold me, to wipe away my tears. I never let him see me cry after that.

I pushed away the memories. "You're right Daeghun. I don't need you here holding my hand. You taught me to stand on my own and so I do. My choice was my own and even if you had been here, you couldn't have stopped me."

"Your choice was foolish. You may have caused the rest of this world to fall into shadow. Already the darkness is staring to consume more of the woodlands. The enemy is growing bolder. You have weakened yourself substantially and he knows it."

"You missed the speech where I explained why Ammon being dead posed no problem. You should have been there. It was really quite rousing. Besides, we have a plan." I said the last part a tad defensively.

"Searching through books? That will get you nowhere."

"Daddy dearest seems to be rather well informed about our actions," Bishop said. "Someone's mouth has been flapping more than what's healthy for them."

The look Daeghun gave the other ranger was chilling. "Indeed. I have had several reports. Many concerning you."

"And just what did you hear?" Bishop didn't seem concerned about what Daeghun had heard. In fact he seemed to be almost enjoying himself. He was bracing his hand behind him on my desk and leaning back as if he hadn't a care in the world. His armor made a soft noise of leather on leather as he shifted. He hadn't bothered changing for the party. My father was also in leather armor. I looked down at the rather large expanse of skin left bare from the dress and wished, not for the first time, that I too was wearing my armor. There was something about being so exposed that made me feel ill equipped for this particular battle.

"I know who you are Luskan. I know your past. You may have been able to charm your way into my daughter's bed, but you will not be her downfall."

"Hey! He didn't charm his way into my bed." _There was no bed to speak of unless you count a fur and a fire._

"I am not a fool child."

"And neither am I." I gestured to Bishop. "Look at him. Do you actually think he could be charming?"

Bishop smiled his knife edge smile.

"I am quite aware that your idea of charming is a bit skewed." Daeghun said deprecatingly.

"All I had to do was open a few throats and she just fell into my arms," Bishop said rather cheerfully.

"You're not helping."

My father's nostrils flared. "I smell madness and lies on you human, mixed with bitterness and pain. You reek of it." He turned to me. "You should kill him before he betrays you."

"I'll take that into consideration. Now are we done conversing about my personal life? Can we please move back to the reason you're here?"

"Your personal life can not be separated from your quest. But yes, we need to speak about other things now. Time runs short as you dance your nights away."

"One stupid party and I'm about the get the grasshopper and the ant story. You're wonderful at making me feel like I'm six again."

"Then perhaps you should stop acting like it."

That drew me up cold. I could feel all the emotion drain from my face. Through dead eyes I looked at the man who had raised me. "Do you know what it was like coming home to see every person you had ever cared about a rotting corpse? Do you know what it's like to have the fate of the whole bloody world weighing on your shoulders?" I asked quietly. "Do you know what it's like to be covered in the blood of your enemies and to find yourself reveling in it? Monsters aren't always made in the underground labs of mad wizards, father. Sometimes someone just gets pushed one inch too far. Perhaps you should be thankful I am acting like a child, because cold logic can only take me so far."

He contemplated me in silence. "You've grown older," he said at last. "And not by the passing of years."

"Funny statement coming from an elf," I muttered.

Daeghun's expression never changed, but then, it rarely did. Hells, the slightest glimmer of amusement on his face would be the same as me convulsing with laughter. "The silver shards you carry, how many do you have now?"

"Oh, you mean the silver shards like the one that's lodged in my breast? The thing that you neglected to mention? Those silver shards?"

"Yes."

"Sarcasm is still utterly wasted on you isn't it?" I sighed. Or at least I tried. The dress wouldn't let me breathe deeply enough to. "I have them all. We have been looking for information on how to reforge the sword into a usable weapon."

"Good. I have heard there is one who might be able to provide you that information. Seek out Nolalothcaragasint."

"Nolathwhosawhatsit?"

"Nolaloth." Bishop's voice was thoughtful. "A dragon. I've heard of him. Legend says that his soul was trapped here by Illefarn. Probably hates the King as much as you do. He's old and likes to collect things, knowledge mostly. Might be worth trying to talk to him. Or he might just eat you. Either way, it should be entertaining."

"A dragon." I slouched further against the wall. "Wow dad. You really send me on the best errands now. Hell I remember when the most you would let me do is go sell your bloody furs." The damn corset wouldn't allow me to get comfortable against the wall. I scowled and hauled myself upright.

"I see war has not dampened your attempts at humor."

"What can I say? I'm stubborn like that."

Bishop, who had been watching our interactions this whole time with veiled interest, seemed to decide that it was time to change the subject. "Well, this has certainly been a night of reunions hasn't it?"

Daeghun's eyes sharpened. "Did someone else survive West Harbor?"

"No, but Gavin has come by. He's working for me now."

"Gavin is here?" Daeghun's lips turned down the smallest amount. On anyone else, I could call it a frown. From him it was a scowl. "I never liked him. There is something about him I do not trust."

"Well, what do you know? You and Bishop have something in common. Amazing."

"You do not believe me?"

"You trust only a handful more people that Bishop does, which considering he doesn't trust anyone isn't saying a whole lot. Plus, you never liked Gavin. Especially after you caught the two of us in the barn that one time."

"This one and Gavin are the same type of creature."

"Careful elf. I might just get insulted. I'm not nearly so nice if you hurt my feelings."

"Stuff it Bishop. You don't have feelings, remember?"

A knock on the door saved me from his retort. It swung open to reveal Neeshka and Casavir, both dressed for the party. Neeshka was in a tight violet dress, the skirt of which was cut high on the side to show one long leg. Casavir was much more conservative in dark pants and a royal blue tunic with golden thread woven through it. They glanced at the three of us, both wearing identical expressions of concern.

"Kat," Neeshka said. "You're missing the party."

"Sorry. My father wanted to talk to me."

"Wow, this is your dad? He's alive?" She eyed him up and down. "You didn't tell me he was hot." She gave a mischievous grin.

Casavir cleared his throat. "My apologies sir, we are still trying to teach her about filters," he said dryly. He gave Daeghun a polite bow. "I am pleased to finally meet you. Lady Kathrynn has been concerned for your welfare for some time now. It must be a relief to her now that she finally knows you are alive."

_Is my father being __**chastised**__?? That's something I never thought I'd see._

Daeghun didn't miss the reproach in Casavir's tone. "I have had duties that demanded my attention. But you must be the one they call Casavir. I have heard reports about you as well."

Casavir bowed again.

"They weren't flattering," Daeghun clarified.

Color rose in Casavir's cheeks. "Thank you father," I said before Daeghun could continue to alienate everyone. "It appears your talent for making all my friends uncomfortable still persists to this day."

My father ignored me. "Time is growing short," he repeated. "You must move quickly to salvage what you can before it's too late."

"What does he mean by that?" Neeshka asked.

"He means it's time to go visit a dragon."

*****

_Bishop left the others to plan their little mission to the dragon's lair. He slipped out of the keep and past the farmlands that lay beyond the wall. He had to get some distance between him and __**her**__. She threw his carefully constructed walls into chaos and he needed to decide what to do about that. Go or stay? He wasn't bored with her yet, something that surprised him since he had already gotten under her proverbial skirts._

_Remembering that night still sent a surge of lust through him. The burning urgency that had consumed them left no time to explore, no time to do some of the things he had spent the past several months fantasizing about. It had cleared up something he had been wondering about though. She fucked like she fought, completely uninhibited and losing herself in the joy of the dance, burning with a personal fire. The small taste of that fire left him wanting to throw himself into the flames. And after, he smiled now, after she didn't go soft. He hadn't expected her to. If she had, he would have been gone then and there. _

_The only part that bothered him was the contentment he had felt waking up beside her the next morning. Upon waking, he found that his face was buried in her hair, and he was gripping her to him in a way that seemed both possessive and protective. He had laid there for several minutes feeling a sense of peace that was utterly foreign and one that seemed to almost sooth the roiling bottomless pit of hate and anger that was his heart. It was a dangerous feeling, one he wasn't familiar or comfortable with._

_He should have left. The things she made him feel, the fact that she made him feel anything at all, were silken chains, subtle but stronger than steel. He had always run from chains. But this time, instead he had convinced himself that with the sex that good and no feminine whining after, there was no point not to avail himself of the benefits until he got bored. He managed to also convince himself that was why he was still there even as a little voice in his subconscious screamed one word over and over. Liar. _

_Then tonight, watching her with that annoying pup had sent so much anger through him that practical idea didn't seem so practical. The tiny voice got a little louder as the burning acidic taste of jealousy dug its barbed thorns into his flesh and made the world into a crimson pulsing haze. Dancing with her later had made it worse. He had wanted to mark her, brand her as his. By the time her father had interrupted, he was fighting a desire to take her there against the wall in front of everyone so that it would be clear who she belonged to. _

_He scowled and continued stalking toward the woods. It was unlike him to feel possessive about anything other than his weapons. He didn't like it. It made him want to maim someone. Preferably that curly haired bastard. A weak thing like Gavin would never appreciate Kat's coldly efficient killing style, her practical nature that could rival even his own. Bishop smiled darkly to himself as he thought of what Gavin would have done had he seen his precious Kathrynn dispassionately slitting Jerro's neck._

_Gavin's mere existence had Bishop's hackles up. The smooth way complements rolled off his tongue, that practiced smile, the lies he told so convincingly, all of it made Bishop want to bash his face in slowly and painfully. The only thing that lessened that feeling was watching Kat shoot him down time after time. He had followed Gavin that night on the wall, spied on his failed attempts to get in her bed. Had the attempts not failed… Bishop bared his teeth and knew with absolute certainty that both of them would no longer be among the living._

_She was trouble. After Kat's little drunken fit he had disappeared into the woods again. He had told her something about his past that he had never told anyone else before. The worst part of sharing that, the absolutely worst part, was the look of understanding she gave him. There was no horror, no contempt, just plain understanding. He was laid bare in that moment, naked in a way that had nothing to do with clothing. So he did what he always did. He left. He didn't plan on returning either. But then Gavin came back._

_And then there was her father… Bishop thought over what he had learned and noted about the elf. He had heard about him before. There weren't many other rangers that caught his attention, but the elf was one of the few who actually came close to matching his own skills. The man was dangerous. He was practical and ruthless in pursuit of his quarry. Bishop didn't like him, but a part of him couldn't help but give him a grudging respect._

_Bishop had walked deep into the woods as he thought everything over. He made a decision. He would stay, for a while longer at least. He was enjoying himself, he was making a good amount of coin, and he got to kill lots of Luskans. Besides, the more people she pissed off, the higher the price on her head climbed. It was all about the final result he told himself. And once the price was high enough…_

_The only indication of danger that he had was the hairs on the back of his neck prickling in silent warning. He unslung his bow and began to notch an arrow when the words drifted from behind him._

"_I wouldn't do that if I were you."_

_Bishop didn't turn. "I would think you would be in the office catching up with your little girl."_

"_She doesn't need me for that."_

"_So is this the part where you ask me what my intentions are?"_

"_No. This is where you give me a reason not to kill you."_

_Bishop finally casually turned to face Daeghun. He shrugged and fingered the string of his own bow, completely ignoring the arrow head that was pointed directly between his eyes. "You're welcome to try." _

_There was a little voice in the back of Bishop's mind that was screaming for him to kill the elf but he silenced it. It wasn't time for that, not yet. That would bring the battle with Kathrynn to a head sooner than he was ready for it to end. _

"_Duncan told me everything about you, how he found you, what you had done."_

"_The half-breed talks a lot. I'll have to have a chat with him about that next time I see him."_

"_Use what little wisdom you possess and give me a good reason not to put you down here and now." _

_He smiled coldly. "Be smarter than your brother and think about it elf. Do you really believe your precious daughter would have survived all this time with just those incompetent fools at her back?"_

_The tension on the string didn't lessen. "Perhaps, perhaps not. That doesn't change that fact that you make every sense scream danger."_

_That's not all I make scream, Bishop thought to himself with some amusement._

_Daeghun must have been able to read the though as it crossed over his face because the elf's eyes narrowed. "I should kill you now and spare myself the trouble of hunting you down after you betray her."_

"_You obviously don't know your daughter very well then."_

"_And how is that?"_

"_If I betray her, she would hunt me down herself. Girl's so stubborn that a little thing like death wouldn't stop her."_

_The bow lowered as Daeghun considered that. "You had better pray you're right." And as silently as he came, the elf was gone, swallowed by the trees once more._


	55. Chapter 55

A/N: For story purposes, a few events are out of order.

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 55

The dragon's lair was far and wanting to avoid problems on the road, I had asked Neeshka to join us. I figured that having three sneaky people in the group would allow us to scout out the surrounding areas more efficiently and bypass any issues that would slow us down. Bandits were one of those 'issues', though we found the closer we got to the dragon, the less problems there were. Neeshka took the down time to regale me with her thoughts on Bishop and me.

"I was watching you two at the solstice party."

"You and everyone else."

"Of course they were. You looked great. I did a fabulous job with your hair and clothing if I do say so myself."

"Which you have. Several times."

She grinned at me. "Anyways, as I was saying, I was watching Bishop watching you. I swear, that boy didn't know which end was up. The looks on his face when you were dancing with Gavin…" She whistled meaningfully. "I could have sworn that someone was going to die that night."

"Personally, my vote is for the farmer that grabbed my ass," I grouched.

She laughed. "Sounds like something he would say. You know, I've noticed something. You two are a lot alike. The difference is you let us see your good side first, and you keep the scary part of you hidden unless it needs to come out. With Bish, it's scary all the way, but I bet you there is a soft part in there somewhere. You know, somewhere deep." She paused and looked thoughtful. "You would have to dig it out with a shovel though. A really, really big one. Might kill him in the process."

I glanced around behind us. Bishop was no where to be seen. "Maybe you should keep your voice down."

"Naw, your boy is off scouting someplace else. He can't hear me."

"Fine, but if an arrow comes through your back; I'm going to tell you I told you so."

"I'm right though, aren't I? He's got a soft spot somewhere?"

"I doubt it."

"You're no fun. You're supposed to speculate with me that deep down, under the rough exterior and the murderous tendencies, he holds a secret flame of love for you, burning brightly in his black little heart."

I stopped in my tracks and stared at her. She stopped as well and looked at me expectantly. Neeshka wiggled her eyebrows and I doubled over with laughter. "Secret flame of love," I gasped out. "Black little heart." I held my sides. "Gods, Neesh. That is the funniest thing I've ever heard."

She gave me a mock pout. Soft footsteps came up the road and Sand had caught up to us. He eyed us archly. "Did you accidently read that hideous laughter scroll again dear girl?"

"No," I said, once my laughter faded enough for me to speak. "But Neeshka has certainly been reading something. I think she's been sneaking romance novels again behind the books she's supposed to be studying."

"Neeshka," Sand said reprovingly.

"What? Those journals are sooo boring!"

I left Sand giving Neeshka a lecture on duty and made my way to Casavir and Khelgar. "Any sign of where we're going yet?"

"Nothing yet my lady, though it is interesting to note that the further we go, the fewer animals and such are in the surrounding forest."

"Personally I would think that a spirit dragon's lair would be the best place of animals. I mean, it's not like he's going to eat him, and he would keep poachers way."

"Perhaps, but this area has an uneasy aura about it. It feels almost like a cage. That may explain the lack of wildlife."

"I see some of the wildlife," Khelgar muttered, nodding at the tree line. Bishop was coming out of the forest, his bow at the ready.

"There's a clearing about a mile ahead," Bishop said. "Big crystal looking thing in the center of it. Think that's what dear old dad was talking about."

I glanced at the sky. We had set off at first light this morning and by now it was around midday. We would be able to get there soon and hopefully be on our way back before the light faded. "Good, let's hurry. I don't want to spend more time than necessary out here."

"Scared of a little lizard kitten?"

"No. In case you haven't noticed, its bloody cold at night. I miss my warm bed."

"My bedroll's always open."

I eyed him up and down slowly, ignoring the disgusted snort from Khelgar. "Maybe I'll take you up on that."

Now the annoyed sound was from Casavir. "What holy man?" Bishop drawled. "Don't you want to hear how she screams? I bet you've never heard that sound from a woman."

I glared at Bishop and fought an embarrassed flush. "Or maybe I won't take you up on that."

"Your loss," he said casually as he wandered ahead of us down the road.

Casavir glanced at me. I glanced back. "Not one word," I muttered. He wisely kept his mouth shut.

*****

I lay on my back staring up into the blue, blue sky. Fluffy white clouds floated by happily. One looked like rabbit. Another slightly to the left looked like a giant fish. And the one right above that… I stared at it, but couldn't make out any discernable shape. Maybe if I cocked my head and squinted it would sort of look like a ruined castle. Or not. A trickle of wetness dripped from my forehead and into my eye. I wiped at it and my fingers came away red.

A face appeared over me. A blue face with elegantly pointed ears and long dark hair. A face that proceeded to start yelling at me. In elvish. I blinked and tried to make sense of the words. Although my foster father was an elf, I only had a rudimentary understanding of the language. There was something about dragons and cloth? No… robes. Something about expensive magical robes and acid.

That annoying trickle was back. I swiped at it impatiently. More redness. A big hand, a pink human looking one came into my field of vision and pressed two fingers against my throat. The pointy eared one was still screaming at me. The hand retreated and slipped under my shoulders and pulled until I was upright. The sky tilted. Blue eyes, blue like the pretty sky filled my vision. The hand was back before me, probing at my head.

I winced. The probing hurt. A lot. "Stop that," I grumbled. The trickle couldn't rightly be called a trickle anymore now that I was sitting up. It was flowing freely and I had to keep blinking to keep my vision clear. My face felt wet and sticky. There was a sound of a bottle being uncorked and a vial was pressed to my lips. I drank the minty potion and felt the steaming wetness slow. The roiling fog in my brain pulled back leaving me clearheaded again. The elf, Sand, was still pointing at his robes and ranting.

"What happened?"

Casavir crouched next to me and wiped the blood from my forehead. He ran a finger over my now healed flesh and nodded, satisfied. "We got the information from the spirit dragon and went to destroy the crystal like we promised. When we did, two black dragons that were drawn to the area's power attacked."

I saw the two large black forms lying motionless in the field. "I remember that part. How did I end up making shapes in the clouds while you guys killed the dragons?"

"You tried to climb onto one of the dragon's backs and attempt to backstab him."

"Oh… Well that was stupid of me."

Casavir didn't say anything to that, but I could tell that he agreed. "Once you were up there, the creature managed to toss you off and you took a tail lash to the head."

"You're lucky your head is still on your shoulders," Neeshka said, kneeling next to Casavir. "It really sent you flying."

"Is everyone else alright?"

"We got all the injured patched up. The only non-survivor was Sand's precious robe. He hasn't stopped yelling about it since the dragon spat acid on it. I think once he ran out of common swear words, he switched back to elvish."

"So I hear." I winced as Sand spat out a particularly blistering curse in his lyrical native tongue.

"Do you remember what Nolaloth told us?" Casavir asked

"Yeah. We need to go back to West Harbor."

"I am sorry for that my lady. I know how much you wished to never return there."

I shrugged. "I'll deal. That's where the blade broke, so that's were it needs to be mended."

"He also said it would take a pure effort of will to be able to do it. Do you feel as though you can complete the task?"

I nodded. "There's no other choice."

Khelgar came up and interrupted the serious conversation. "What in the hells is the lad doing?"

We all looked over to where Bishop was crouching on one of the dragon's body. "It looks like he's skinning it," I said.

"Of course he is," Neeshka responded. "Do you have any idea how much dragon scale is worth or the armor you can make out of it? There's enough there in those two hides for like ten suits of armor."

"Huh." I looked down at my own acid spotted armor thoughtfully. "Maybe I should give him a hand."

*****

Sand was still furious about the robe. The gist I got from him in the several days it took to get back to the keep was that it was one of only five ever created. The magic stored in its cloth was immense. It would be nearly impossible to replace it. I felt a bad for its loss on the first and second day on the road. By the fourth day I was ready to make a noose out of the precious fabric and hang it around Sand's neck.

Luckily the keep came into site before any blood was shed. I retreated to my room for a hot bath while Bishop took the scales to the armory to see what could be done with them. We all met up later that night for dinner and I filled in the others on what happened.

"It only makes sense _Kalach-cha_. The place of the sword's death must be the place of its rebirth. We much travel to your village and see the scar that was left."

I poked at the meat on my plate, pushing it around aimlessly. Zhjaeve seemed excited by the prospect of going to the site where the sword broke. I was anything but. I tried to think of a response, but there was a rush of plated feet pounding against stone floors outside of the dinning hall. A warning horn trumpeted in the courtyard.

A cry rang out. "To arms! To arms!"

We jumped to our feet, chairs being knocked over in our haste to stand. Rushing out to the courtyard, we ran into groups of soldiers, each in various stages of dress. As they struggled to do up their armor, I flew up the stairs to look over the rampart walls where archers were running to and fro, getting into firing position. The scent of smoke burned my nostrils. Screams pierced the night.

"What in the hells?" I whispered.

Below me, the recently rebuild farmlands were in flames. Figures ran from burning buildings only to be cut down by the army that was laying waste outside my gates. Thousands of men in various forms of armor were making quick destruction of months of work. Casavir appeared at my side.

"By Tyr." Casavir sounded stunned. "My lady, those are not men."

I looked closer. He was right. What I thought were men were actually walking skeletons. It was a massive army of undead. "The King must know we found out how to reforge the sword. Do you know what that means?"

"It means those people out there are dying."

"No, it means that the sword does still have the power to hurt him. He wouldn't be sending this large of a force against us if we didn't pose a threat."

"What about the farmers?"

This is the part of battle I hated. Deciding who lived and who died was grisly work. "You know that any men we send out would be cut down," I said quietly. "The best we can do at this time is make a distraction and hope it will give some of them a chance to get away." I motioned an archer captain over and told him what I wanted him to do.

He turned to his men. "Time for target practice boys," he shouted. "On my mark." The captain called his orders to fire and volley after volley of arrows filled the dark sky. I grabbed Casavir and went back to join the others in the courtyard.

Weapons at the ready we gave each other grim nods.

"Will the walls hold?" I asked Khelgar.

He looked excited and itching for battle. "Aye lass, they'll hold. I saw to their construction meself. As long as the gate doesn't fall, they will have a tough time breaching the outer defenses."

"They have no siege weapons," Neeshka reported, coming up to us slightly out of breath.

"Alright. Qara get up on the walls, I need some fire balls, big ones. Get some of the Many Starred Cloaks together and have them spread out up there with you."

"What about the farms?"

"They're gone already. Aim to hit as many of the undead as you can. Don't worry about civilians. There aren't any left. "

Her lips pressed into a grim line and she nodded. Barking orders to powerful mages like she would servants, she quickly had a small group ready and racing up the steps.

"Sand, is there anything you can do to help the soldiers?"

"Already on it my dear. I prepared several scrolls ahead of time just for this eventuality."

"Good. The rest of us…"

They looked at me expectantly.

"The rest of us, now we wait for our turn."

We waited in the cold night. It was an odd battle. Now that the screaming of the farmers had stopped, it was nearly silent except for the twang of bowstrings and the occasional explosion from the mages. The dead didn't scream. There was a shuffling sound from the other side of the walls, something that sounded like thousands of unsteady feet moving ever closer. Tension mounted in the courtyard. Guardsmen gripped their weapons nervously and shifted from side to side in their ranks.

The unnerving quiet was broken by pounding and scratching at the front gate. The sound was like dry sticks scraping over wood. "They're trying to break it down," came the call from above. "By the gods, they are trying to break it down with their bare hands!"

Fear and excitement hung heavy on the breeze. "They won't get past the gate," I called reassuringly to the assembled men. "This battle will be over before you even get a chance to fight."

There was a rattle of chains in response to my words. "What the-" My eyes widened in disbelief as the gate in question began to rise. In seconds the metal barrier was up and the doors swung open. Undead poured through the entryway in a flood of animated corpses.

A roar rose from the men and they surged forth, weapons gleaming in the moonlight.

"Won't get past the gate huh?" Neeshka asked.

I didn't answer her. I was to busy throwing myself into the tide of bodies.


	56. Chapter 56

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 56

The aftermath was hideous. The dead and dying lay scattered about, moans and screams still hovering in the night air. Clerics and priests ran to and fro helping those who could still be saved. Those who couldn't were given a quick shake of the head before the healer moved on.

A team of soldiers were removing the skeletal corpses from the grounds. Fearing that they would rise again, a large fire was built and the bodies were destroyed. The flames stained the dark sky a bloody red. It was appropriate considering the circumstances, I mused as I sagged against a ruined parapet.

Legs that were clad in an armor that had at one time been shiny and pristine came to stand next to me. I couldn't even raise my head to see who it was. I just focused on the flecks and spatters of blood and gore that now decorated the adamantine.

"My lady," a deep voice said quietly. "Kathrynn."

I looked up to see Casavir looking down at me. Then I saw his shoulder. The plate mail had a hole punched through it, the jagged edges pressing into his ripped and bloody flesh. "You're hurt," I said dully.

The hard planes of his face were white with pain but his voice was steady. "So are you, but you must get up. You are needed in the war room immediately."

"Is the war room still there?"

He nodded. "The buildings inside the walls are demolished, but the keep proper still stands."

"How did they get the gate open?"

Casavir refused to meet my eyes. "You must come."

I crawled up the wall using hands slippery with bloody. Mine, others, I didn't know who's. It didn't really matter in the wake of the destruction. There was so much soaking into the ground down below, what were a few more drops.

"We have to get your shoulder fixed."

He glanced at wound that resembled so much raw meat and swiftly looked away. "I will live. Any healing skills have to be used for those who don't necessarily have that luxury."

I nodded. As we walked along the wall I surveyed the courtyard below. I had seen the aftermaths of battle before, but nothing on this degree. The amount of pain that was spread out before me was staggering. West Harbor, Ember, both were nothing compared to this scale. It made me feel extraordinarily old and world weary just looking at it.

My companions and Kana were waiting for us silently. All were injured in one way or another. The room smelled of an acrid mix of blood, sweat, and sorrow. There was varying degree of shock and exhaustion in everyone's eyes.

I did a quick count of heads. We all made it. All but one anyway. "Where's Bishop?"

Kana drew herself up stiffly. "He was spotted leaving the keep." Though she had never cared any for the ranger, the brittle edge of fury startled me.

I sighed. I supposed deep down I knew he would have ran at the first sign the battle was not swinging in our favor. He was a survivor. Knowing that didn't help the strong sense of disappointment though.

"This was never his fight," I said as neutrally as I could. "Personally I'm surprised he stayed as long as he did."

"That's not all," Neeshka said softly.

"What?"

"Bishop was spotted leaving the keep just moments after _someone_ raised the keep gates and allowed the army past our first line of defense."

I rocked back, staring at Kana and the rage burning in her eyes. The words and their implications hit me like a physical blow that made all my other wounds seem superficial. All the breath left my body in a rush and with knees that would no longer support me, I sank into a chair.

Kana's voice was shaking with the force of her emotions. "You knew he wasn't to be trusted, but you kept him here. He betrayed us all, just as we warned out he would. Those soldiers died out there because you had a weakness for him."

So this is what it came down to. All this time I was stupid enough to think that our personal little battle would eventually end one on one. This treachery went far beyond what I ever considered him capable of. The betrayal sent waves of physical pain though me. "Gods," I gasped, screwing my eyes tight. "I am such a fool."

"Yes you are," Kana snarled. "As far as I'm concerned, all those men's deaths are on your head."

I opened my eyes. "Thank you Kana," I said coldly. "I wasn't aware of how badly I fucked up until you made that clear. I appreciate your clarity."

Casavir looked from Kana to me before he carefully asked, "What are you going to do now?"

I made the only decision I could. Hardening everything in me I said clearly and with no emotion, "I want him found and I want him alive."

Kana laughed a brittle mocking laugh. "Why so he can kill off the rest of us? Was this lesson not sufficient for you?"

"I am very aware of the lesson learned here Kana. I made this mess, and I plan on being the one to clean it up." Leaving it at that, I walked from the room. I made slow process to my bedchamber where I sank down on the bed and cradled my head in my hands. Nausea curled in my belly, hot and bitter. My thoughts, anguished and full of ineffectual 'what ifs,' swirled quickly from one memory to the other. The dead men's faces, the stunned horror as the gate raised, the bleached white bone of the undead army. All these pictures were superimposed with an image of Bishop's grimly blank face at dinner. He knew then. He planned our deaths as he ate at our table. The bile rose in my throat. If I had only known…

A soft knock came at the door. Without waiting for my response, Neeshka came into sit next to me. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" I snorted. "I'm the one who's sorry. So damn sorry. I knew he would turn eventually and I didn't do anything about it."

"You know," Neeshka said thoughtfully, leaning over and resting her head on my shoulder. "People think just because I have demon blood that I'm evil and that I would turn on someone in a heartbeat. No matter what I do to prove that I wouldn't do that to my friends, they still believe that and there are some who would rather put me down like a wild animal than take that risk."

"I take it there's a point somewhere in there?"

"Bishop is also like a wild animal. There are risks associated with that. You just have to choose whether or not they are worth taking. The animal might end up biting you, it might not, but you can't put it down at the beginning because of what _might_ happen. That would be like the people who want me to die just because of what I am."

"I'm sure all the dead in the yard think differently," I muttered into my hands.

"You took the risk and now you've been bit. Hard. We all have. My question is will you be able to do what is necessary?"

Wordlessly I nodded. It would destroy a piece of me to do it, but I had to kill him. We both knew that one day it would come to this, but I never thought the collateral damage would be so immense. Neeshka wrapped her arm around me and we sat in silence, mourning both the current and future dead.

*****

Over the next few weeks I threw myself into my work, rebuilding the keep, searching through the tomes of lore for more information on the Kind of Shadows. It seemed that Kana was not the only one who blamed me for Bishop's betrayal. I had the honor of a visit from Nevalle. I had stood silently through his tirade, through the threats and the cursing. The coldly collected Knight of Neverwinter was actually upset enough to shout at me several times. By the end of it my jaw ached from clenching my teeth together so hard and I had a clear picture of what would happen to me if I failed again. My own guilt forced me to listen to the rant without speaking a word or walking out in the middle of it.

Later I got a list of the dead and the missing. The dead list numbered in the hundreds, the missing list was much shorter. Only a few names were on it, one of them being Gavin's. I knew he would be on that list. One of the things he did best was survive and there was no reason for him to risk his life by staying. The other names were most likely deserters. I was supposed to forward the list on so that a bounty could be placed on all of their heads, but somehow I 'accidentally' lost the list before I could do so. I had killed enough people in the past fortnight. I didn't need them to die as well.

That little rebellion was just one more drop in the bucket. I was closely watched by spies and by my own men. I made it easy for them. I studied, I read, I kept my nose clean. That's how the morning found me. In the library, nose deep in an old journal Sand had just gotten in. I read a few passages and frowned. I read them again.

"Sand," I called. "Come look at this."

He set his own book down and came over. Leaning over my shoulder he scanned the text quickly. He turned a few pages. "Sweet Mystra, mother of magic," he whispered.

"This is one of their journals isn't it? One of the Illefarn mages who created the King."

"I believe it is." Sand took the book from me and sat down in the empty chair at my side. He flipped the ancient pages carefully, but with a speed that amazed me. He paused on one age yellowed page. He began reading out loud.

"_From flame the guardian is protected,_

_From rain and the lightning bolt._

_The weapon of the Black Dragon holds no danger,_

_Nor the bite of the snake._

_Priests of good and ill have no power,_

_For the guardian is eternal."_

Sand started to laugh. Had it been anyone else, I would say he was almost cackling. "That's it. We found it."

"Found what? Sounds to me that that just tells us how screwed we are."

The elf rolled his eyes and shook his head in disgust. "I forget how dense you non-magic users can be. Hand me that pen. I shall make you a diagram with pretty pictures so that you can understand it."

He scratched a short list on a scrap of paper and pushed it at me. There were in fact quick little sketches next to each item on the list.

"Flame to fire, Rain to water, Lightning to lightning, Black Dragon to acid, Snake to poison, Priests to magic (Positive, Negative and divine)." I glanced at Sand. "So it's basically saying he's immune to everything."

"No. Not everything you silly girl. Read it again. What part of a storm does the passage not mention?"

I reread it, this time more carefully. "Thunder," I whispered. "No where is thunder mentioned."

"Exactly. That's the crack in the armor that we have to exploit."

"That spell the Luskan bitch used on us, the one that threw Zhjaeve across the field. Can we do something like that?"

"I have nothing like that, but I may be able to come up with something similar in my lab. It will take some time."

I stood up, my drive to finish this quest suddenly revitalized. "Do it. We still need to get the sword reforged. Anything you need, let me know and one way or another I will get it for you."

"This may be expensive. Our funds have been sorely depleted by rebuilding the keep a second time."

I gave him a grim smile. "Lest you forget, I am a thief my friend. I have ways of getting what we need."

"Greater good and all that?"

"I prefer to think of it as greater need, personally."

He smiled faintly. "I'll draw up a list for you as soon as possible. I take it that you are feeling up to traveling to West Harbor soon now?"

I nodded. "I think I may just have the will necessary to do it now."

Sand rested a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "You have always had the will dear girl. Always."


	57. Chapter 57

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 57

West Harbor was still decimated. I don't know what I was expecting; maybe that someone had rebuilt it. Harbormen were tough. Knock us down and we keep getting back up. We're like weeds. Rip us out and we grow back stronger. It seems I had forgotten one thing though. Other than myself and Daeghun, there were no Harbormen left.

Zhjaeve's veil fluttered with her breath. "There was much pain here. Much loss. This is a place of great sadness."

"I am aware of that."

"That kind of energy creates much power. Be on your guard and do not trust your eyes."

As if summoned by her words, two forms shimmered in the air before us. The shapes twisted and flowed into two recognizable people. "Kathrynn," said one wispy man in a voice like the wind through the trees. "You've come back to save us."

"Who are they?" whispered Qara.

"Webb and Ward Mossfield. They were two of the people we buried," I whispered back. This was going to be harder than I thought. If I had to see the ghosts of everyone I had grown up with, coming back here would be like cutting open barely healed wounds.

"Follow us," the brothers whispered in unison. "You must come with us to save us."

A hand gripped my arm as I took a step forward. Casavir shook his head. "These are not the men you knew Kathrynn. These are something else."

I glanced from the brothers to Casavir and clenched my teeth. Closing my eyes briefly, I opened them and nodded, ignoring the cajoling whispers from the ghosts.

There was an angry hiss and the incorporeal bodies of Webb and Ward shifted and shimmered again and became the inky black forms of shadows. I set my jaw and with a nod to the others, prepared to attack.

It took a while to make our way toward the scar. Shapes formed around us, tried to seduce me with faces and words from my past. We cut them all down. Just when I thought that it couldn't get any worse, the shape of Retta Starling appeared before me.

"My child," she whispered, holding out a hand as if to stroke my cheek.

I stumbled back and would have fallen if Casavir had not grabbed me. I vaguely noticed my breath was coming much to fast. Air was being dragged through my nose in sharp panicky breaths. "Not this. Not her. Not now." I tried desperately to focus on the transparent form in front of me, find some flaw in the likeness. Other than the ghostly translucently, there was none. "You're not her," I gasped out. "She's gone and buried. You're a fake."

"No child, I am Retta. I am the one who loved and cared for you when you needed me the most. You've done well, so well. It's time for you to stop now though. Stop causing yourself, all of us, all this pain."

"You're… Not… Her…"

"Come to me dear heart." Retta's form held out familiar arms. "Come to me and all will be well."

I shifted my grip on my weapons. The companions were silent behind me. "She always called me dear heart," I whispered and stepped forward.

"Kathrynn, no. It's all a lie."

I took another step closer to the figure. "She always called me dear heart," I whispered again. The figure smiled softly and opened her arms further in welcome. I took the final step I needed and raised my weapon to drive it into the form's heart. "But she's dead."

Retta screamed and shivered, her shape blackening on the edges, the shadow's true form leaking out. "Why?" she screamed. "Why are you hurting me?"

I stared as the form resolidified into Retta. My blade came up again. "Because you're not her," I whispered and thrust the blade two handed through the thing's head. It vanished in a puff of rancid smoke and left a puddle of dark residue on the dead grass at our feet.

My feet carried me backwards from the sticky mass. I tumbled to my ass and sat there feeling lightheaded and numb.

Casavir crouched before me, Khelgar and Zhjaeve keeping watch over our vulnerable bodies. I didn't see Qara. "My lady, slow your breathing." I stared at him as spots started to dance in my vision. I couldn't seem to control my lung's need for oxygen. "Kathrynn, focus on me." His face swam in front of mine. I saw his blurring lips frown. "Forgive me," he said softly.

The hand slammed against my cheek hard, rocking my head to the side. My breath caught in a strangled gasp. I raised my own hand to my burning cheek. "You slapped me," I said accusingly when at last I could speak.

"You were hyperventilating."

"I never thought you would have had it in you. Qara maybe, Sand definitely, but not you." I sounded calm again. Good.

He eyed my face with concern. "Will you be alright?"

It actually took me a moment to take stock of myself. A part of me wanted to curl up and cry. Another part was angry. Very, very angry. Whoever was doing this had broken an unspoken rule. They had struck at my wounded heart without ever coming close to my flesh. They would pay for that.

I nodded at Casavir and took his outstretched hand. He hauled me to my feet. "Let's finish this."

We cut a swath through the remaining shadows, heading steadily toward the black mark on the ground. When we found the reaver who was causing all the shades to rise, I pounced at him like a rabid dog, not even waiting for the others to join me. I took brutal, savage delight in killing him. I directed everything I had in me, the pain, the rage, all of it was my gift to him. By the time we were done, there was nothing left of him but a few shattered bones. A tooth lay white on the ground some ways away, knocked from the reaver's mouth when he took the pommel of my shortsword to the jaw.

I was bleeding and the sight of the red drips made me feel better. I was alive. The thing that forced me to kill those wearing my friend's faces was dead. That was how it should be. I strode, dripping blood and sweat, onto the scarred ground. No more shadows attacked us here. All of us stared at the ruined earth. There was a humming vibration coming from the pouch that held the shards.

"You know," I mused aloud, "I always thought that this place was just a big burn mark from some old fire. I always tried to avoid it since it would give me shivers to run over it as a child. It must have been the shard in my chest reacting to it."

"To begin the ritual you must sit upon the scar Kalach-Cha."

I lowered my self cross legged onto the scorched ground. The vibrations increased to a fevered pitch the closer the shards came to the scar. "Now what?"

Zhjaeve sat down across from me. "Take out the shard and place them on the ground."

Pulling the pouch from my belt I carefully unrolled the blue silk bundle. I arrange the pieces as best I could.

"Now close your eyes Kalach-Cha and let your mind drift."

I gave a swift glance to Khelgar and Casavir. They gave me a reassuring nod to let me know they would protect us should anything happen during this little exercise. I shut my eyes and tried to relax.

"Image the sword as it once was. Picture it in your mind."

The only silver swords I had ever seen were the one that Zeeaire had carried. I tried to hold that image in my mind. Nothing seemed to happen. It was no different than if I was just thinking about something.

"Concentrate. Let your mind go."

I frowned and tried to let my mind go where it wanted. It was like trying to catch that illusive time where you were suspended between waking and sleep when you were fully awake. I sat there for some time and breathed deeply until something finally clicked in my head.

I pictured the sword again. The long graceful weapon suddenly felt wrong. Mentally I reformed the blade till something more resembling a short sword floated in my brain. That felt more right. Zhjaeve's soft melodic voice was coming as if from a long way away.

"The sword shatters. Can you see the pieces?"

I nodded and indeed the sword in my mind shattered, the blade breaking into familiar shards. They hovered weightlessly, spinning and glinting with an unnatural light. I mentally stared at them. The pieces were starting to remind me of something. A puzzle, apart but with the pieces in order, the image still visible even with the gaps.

"Will it together." I no longer heard the voice through my ears. It was in my head, resonant and meaningful. With a brush of will I urged the pieces back together. They shivered in their suspended state as if touched by a breeze. I pushed harder. They moved this time, resisting coming closer to each other like magnets of the same polarity.

I could feel a trickle of sweat on the brow of my physical form. I pushed harder. Closer still, but not enough. There was a tugging at my breast like something was trying to escape from under my skin. My body trembled. Closer again, the connection was almost made. Nails bit into my palms as I clenched my fists. My strength was starting to drain. I gave one last mental shove and the pieces resisted, moved, joined.

There was a flash of blinding white light behind my eyes. My lids sprang open. For a moment I couldn't see anything then the world slowly started to come into to focus and fill with color. My palms ached. Painfully I uncurled clenched fingers and watched as four little crescents on each palm filled with blood. An exhaustion that could never be caused from physical labor made me sag. Khelgar braced a hand on my shoulder to keep me from falling.

"It is done." The whisper was reverent. On the ground between us lay a blade. It fairly throbbed with power. Zhjaeve reached out to touch it. The blade flashed a dull red. She jerked her hand back hastily. "It seems only you will be able to wield this weapon. It was made of your will and tied to the shard in your breast. I believe that it will reject any other bearer."

"Like a moonblade," I muttered tiredly. "I have my very own astral moonblade. Yay me."

I took the blade up. The metal seemed to flow fluid like, colors shifting over its surface in swirls of blue and gold, violet and amber. It tingled pleasantly and seemed to almost shiver like a puppy whose master has finally come home. I ran my thumb over the razor edge. I couldn't even feel the skin parting. Blood welled up and I stuck it in my mouth. "Sharp," I said as I put pressure with another finger on the deep cut.

Unfolding my legs, I got to unsteady feet. "Let's go home now. Please." I staggered. Khelgar steadied me. "A horse would be nice right now," I said, exhaustion making the words slurred.

Khelgar gave a little snort. "I think the lass is going to be alright."

*****

It didn't take any longer returning to keep than it did going to West Harbor. Since I was nearly useless, the three of them managed the night watches and let me sleep. I thought about arguing, but decided against it. After what I had been through, I thought I deserved a few nights uninterrupted rest. When we arrived back at the keep much work had been completed and spirits seemed to have risen. Walking through the gates with the naked sword in my hand, a cheer went up from the surviving men. It appeared that by retrieving the silver sword, I was partially forgiven for my horrible error in judgment. Now if only I could forgive myself.

After giving a rundown of what happened to Kana, Sand and Neeshka, I headed up to my room for a little quality rest before the sun had even set. Everything else that I needed to discuss with everyone could wait till the morning.

On the road back I had been plagued by dreams and images of stabbing Retta through the heart, though in my unconscious mind she hadn't been a shadow. Those dreams had woken me in a cold sweat and with a pounding heart. Tonight my sleep was deep and blessedly dreamless.

Something hard slapped over my mouth. I woke with a start and reached instinctively for the weapons that I always kept hidden under the pillow. It was gone. "No point in looking for a weapon kitten," a disembodied voice said in the dark. "They're all out of your reach."

Bishop.

My eyes widened and searched the dark for his face. I could just make out eyes glittering in the moonlight. Something cold and sharp pricked my neck. "Don't scream. I'd hate to open that white throat of yours just yet."

I nodded carefully. The hand moved away slowly. My eyes narrowed to slits as I glared at the shadowed form next to my bed. "You." The anger and sense of betrayal came back full force. "What?" I spat out. "Did you find out the sword is remade and so you came back to finish what you started?"

"So you got those little chips back together huh? Interesting."

I wanted to scream at him. "Don't treat me like a fool," I hissed, my voice low. "You know what was done. You've been working for _him_ the whole time haven't you? Serving him like a good little lap dog."

The tip of the long sword, the long sword that I had gotten made especially for him, pressed harder against my throat. "Get dressed."

I laughed, bitter and crystalline. "What, don't want to kill a woman naked in her bed? You killed all those men. What's one more life?" I pushed away the covers and bared my unclad body, a body that he had at one time made burn with something other than hatred and anguish. "Go on, do it. Show me what a big man you are. This is the only shot I'm going to give you."

Those glittering eyes never wavered from my face. A hand gripped my arm and hauled me out of bed and onto my feet. "Get dressed," Bishop commanded again, coldly. "All your weapons are gone, so don't even think about trying anything stupid. Put your clothes on and you'll get your chance at me."

The blade moved from my throat enough to let me move around but it didn't lower from its threatening position. I grabbed at my armor with fingers that were shaking with the force of my rage. My leggings, cold from lying in the night air slid over my legs and I tightened the laces all the while glaring hatefully at the man who had once been my lover. The leather tunic was next. Over my head it went. I tugged it down and did up the buckles. Out of the corner of my eye I searched for the silver sword. He may have been able to remove all my other weapons, but he shouldn't have been able to touch that one. I didn't see it anywhere.

"Now what?" I asked him, folding my arms over my chest defiantly. "Is this the part where you explained how daddy never loved you and so your search for acceptance led you to the King's service? Or is this the part where you tell me how much that betrayal cost? Hmm? Tell me Bishop. How much blood money did you make from that little stunt?"

"You've always talked too much," he growled. Like a wolf he pounced, a fist visible in the moonlight for a brief second before it slammed against my temple. I saw stars before all the lights went out.


	58. Chapter 58

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 58

When I came to, I was in a room that was darker than pitch. My stomach was tender as if I had been carried like a sack of grain over someone's shoulder. The leather of my armor scraped over the rough hewn stone at my back. There was a shifting noise from what I took to be the other side of the room.

"This has certainly been the week for men hitting me," I muttered.

There was a dry rusty chuckle. My heart lurched to hear it before I hardened the shell around it protectively. "Where are we?"

"The dungeon in your precious keep. There are all sorts of interesting rooms down here you never bothered to explore."

"So sorry. I had other things to do, other mistakes to make." I glared hatefully in the direction of his voice. "But you made the last mistake you'll ever make coming back. You will die in screaming agony for what you did."

"I doubt that." There was the scratch of flint being struck, then sparks, abnormally bright in the blackness, before a torch flared to life. Eerie shadows turned Bishop's face into a death mask. A beard darkened his jaw as if he hadn't had time to shave in a while. There was a long cut on his cheek that even in the strange light I could tell was half healed.

I shifted and took stock of my own injuries. Other than a pounding headache I seemed to be alright. I also didn't seem to be bound in any way. I lurched to my feet and immediately put a hand against the wall for stability when the world spun around me. My head throbbed unmercifully. I raised a hand and gingerly touched the swollen lump at my temple. It was hot under my fingertips and I knew that if I survived, I would be sporting a fist sized bruise.

Bishop was moving slowly around the room, touching the torch to the sconces that were driven into the stone and I noticed that a heavy steel door was the only opening in the solid walls. Light flared with each touch until only one section of the room was left in shadows. The section that the shifting noise had come from earlier. I suddenly understood.

"What's in the shadows? The person who keeps putting the price on my head? You always did tell me it was more if I was alive." I pitched my voice over to the darkness. "I'll make you a deal," I said calmly. "Let me kill him and save you some money. Then you and me, we can work things out on our own."

"Still so eager to spill my blood?" Bishop sounded almost amused. "I always liked that about you."

"Don't you dare mock me." The calm disappeared from my voice and it trembled with rage. Tears of anger, hate, and hurt pricked the back of my eyes. "Don't you fucking dare."

He lit the final sconces and the room was lit up in its entirety. The form that was completely covered in shadow before was a man, crumpled on the stone floor. Bishop gave him a hard kick and the figure moaned pitifully. He reached down and grabbed the man by his blood matted hair. Bishop held the man's face up to me. All the blood drained from my own face when I could finally recognize the man past the bruises and the swelling.

"Gavin," I whispered. I looked at Bishop. "Wasn't one betrayal enough?" Gavin attempted to open the one eye that wasn't swollen shut and covered in blood. I started forward then stopped. I had no weapons, and Bishop was fully armed. For all the mistakes I had made in my life, for all the fool-hardy decisions, I wasn't stupid when it came to him. Not any more.

"Kat? Is that you?" The horse question came from between dry cracked lips. Before I could answer a cough racked his body. Blood bubbled to his lips. His breath rattled in his chest wetly.

Bishop tightened his grip on Gavin's hair. "Now," he said softly. "Why don't you tell her what you told me?" When Gavin didn't respond he gave his head a brutal shake.

I winced. "For gods sakes Bishop! This was supposed to be between me and you."

"Talk."

"Kat," Gavin whispered. "My sweet little Kathrynn. Help me."

That earned him another kick in the ribs. More blood came from between his lips. "You're killing him, you bastard," I snarled.

"If I was killing him, he would be dead," Bishop said flatly. "I've just been torturing him. Isn't that right, Gavin?" He hauled him up higher until the wounded man was on his hands and knees. "So unless you want to spend more time in my care, I suggest you talk." The tone and not the words were what was the most chilling. He seemed almost friendly, happy about the prospect of continuing to torture my old friend.

"I'm so sorry Kat." The whisper was so soft I could barely hear it.

"It's not your fault. It's this sick fuck who's doing all this."

"No."

I froze. "No?"

Gavin shook his bloody head weakly. "He didn't start this. He didn't open that damn gate."

My mind reeled, refused to grasp what was happening. "He didn't?"

"No." There was another wet rattle. The words seemed to squeeze out painfully. "It was me."

"You." I sounded stunned even to my own ears. "You opened the gate?"

He nodded and then groaned at the small movement. "Your dog saw me. He tracked me for days. When he caught me…" Gavin's voice caught. "Oh gods Kat. The things he did… I don't even know how long he's had me."

"He took more than I thought he would ever have been able to before he opened his mouth. I admit, I was getting rather creative towards the end. It was almost a pity when he finally talked."

A muscle twitched spastically in my jaw as I turned it over in my head. The facts seemed to fit. Bishop could be forcing Gavin to say these things to cover himself, but that didn't seem like the ranger I knew. If Bishop had done it, he would be taking full credit for the deed. No matter that the change in enemies wouldn't bring any of my men back from the grave, I was selfishly relieved that Bishop hadn't been the one to do it. I would have killed him, but it would have been like destroying a part of myself. It didn't matter how much I hardened my heart, the pain may have killed what little humanity I had left in me.

I did a quick calculation of days. Bishop must have been at Gavin for almost two full weeks before he brought him here. Did the knowledge that that entire two weeks must have been filled with things I didn't truly want to contemplate bother me? I should have thought yes, but the fury at it all, at everything that had happened said no.

I stared down at Gavin and the hot rage of betrayal suddenly had a new target. The bitter black emotion went to a cold heat, one much more dangerous and one that would allow me to think more clearly, uncomplicated by emotion. "How long?" I asked him. "How long have you been working for him?"

He didn't answer at first. "The whole time," he said at last.

"Even back in West Harbor, before any of this started?" Ice wouldn't have melted in my mouth.

"No, just since you got the keep and started getting closer to the answers. I was sent to distract you."

"Distract me." I walked up to him, stopping inches from his battered body. His head hung down now that Bishop released his sticky, blood crusted curls. There was a time when I had loved running my fingers through those tight curls. "Look at me." He didn't raise his head. "I said look at me!" Gavin moved his head a fraction and rolled his eye up to meet mine. "How were you going to distract me?"

"Seduce you again; keep you busy, from getting too close. If that failed, I was to let his army in to destroy everything you've learned. I had hoped it could have been the easy way. Really I did."

"Keep me busy until what?" I hissed.

"I don't know, he didn't tell me. All I heard was something about a scar and something silver."

_He didn't want me to reforge the sword. He was somehow going to obliterate the scar in West Harbor. _I took several deep breaths to calm myself. They didn't help. I took several more. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you do it?"

"It was just a job sweet Ka-"

"No," I interrupted him and my voice nearly trembled with the force of my anger. "You call me that, and what happened with Bishop will only be a fond memory before I'm even half done with you."

Bishop grinned at me.

"Now tell me why."

Gavin rolled off his knees and leaned against the wall. "I needed money and found a job scouting for some men. After a while, they showed me the boss. Gods, Kathrynn, the power that resonated off of him… He is so strong his mere presence seems to suck the very air from the room. He somehow found out about you and me and told me what I was to do. I was afraid for my life if I didn't do what he ordered." A single tear trickled down his cheek, dampening the dried blood.

I watched the wet drop for a moment. Then I started slowly applauding. "You always were such a convincing liar. I have to admit though; the tear was a particularly nice touch."

His eye widened, more tears glistening in it. "You don't believe me?"

"Not the part where you did it because you were afraid for your life. The only person you are loyal to is yourself. You probably offered in return for a nice bit of gold."

"Hero's don't pay as well," Bishop remarked casually, agreeing with the logic.

"What are you going to do to me?" He actually appeared somewhat relieved that the ranger seemed to be turning him over to me. The creature that lived in the deep pit that I drew strength from when things were bad laughed. It wasn't Bishop he should be afraid of, or the shadow bastard, it whispered. It was me.

I loomed over Gavin. Though the question of Bishop's own loyalties was subject, I knew he was enjoying this little drama to much to let it end just yet. Gavin couldn't hurt me, but I also doubted Bishop would let me hurt him… Much. "You backed the wrong side," I said unfeelingly. "And what's worse, you've hurt those under my care. That just plain pisses me off." The understatement of that was almost laughable in its enormity. I crouched down and looked him in the eye. "Do you know what happens to people who piss me off?"

Gavin stared at me with his one good eye, fear finally starting to rear its head. My lips curled into a smile. It wasn't a pleasant smile. I straightened. "Now on to business." Tightening my fingers, I rammed my fist to his temple and he collapsed over to his side with a grunt.

I stared down at my bloody knuckles. "That blow should have been yours."

"So sorry to disappoint you."

"Why?"

Bishop didn't need me to explain the question. "I like to be on the winning side," he said simply.

"And we're the winning side?"

"You're not following the rules. You're doing things that surprise him. He's off balance, sending people in to soon, making mistakes. So yeah, I would say this is the winning side. For now."

"Is that all?" I looked into his amber eyes.

He shrugged and held my gaze. "I didn't stay alive this long by always doing what people expect of me."

My next question was quiet. "Are you going to be here when I come back with the guards?"

His own lips curved into a cruel smile, a smile much like the one I had given Gavin. "And miss watching you execute your old lover? Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"You're persona non grata here at the moment. Explaining this should prove interesting."

"And just like that, you welcome me back."

It was my turn to shrug. "Your reasoning makes sense. Plus you brought me an excellent returning gift."

He laughed that low laugh of his. We would see if he was still laughing when I came back.

*****

All it took was a knock on Casavir's door and he was trailing after me. He had just fingered the hot bruise at my temple and took in my grim expression before following without question. It had taken me a while to get out of the twisting corridors of the dungeon. It was taking just as long to figure my way back to the cell. I hadn't said a word to him the entire time we walked.

We were finally getting close. "I need you to not overreact," I said at last, stopping to look at him.

He cocked an eyebrow.

"I know you usually don't, but this time I really need you to just trust me. You're not going to want to."

"Of course my lady."

We were close to the door. I knocked twice, the agreed on signal, and pushed it open. After the light from only my torch, it took a moment for our eyes to adjust to the brightness within.

"I should have known you would have brought _him_," said the shadowed figure in the corner.

"Betrayer," Casavir growled and started toward Bishop.

I grabbed his arm. "Remember what I said about trust?" Bishop isn't the enemy. This time." The corded muscle of his arm jerked under my fingers.

"He has you believing that? Did you not see the bodies left after the gates where opened? Are you that blind to his faults that you would fall for his lies after what they have cost?"

"Not this time." With a jerk of my head I brought his attention to the huddled figure on the floor. "You remember Gavin don't you?"

The paladin took a closer look at the bloody figure. "By the gods," he whispered. "What happened to him?"

"I did," Bishop said with a smirk.

I cut off Casavir before he could respond to the other man's goad. "It's less that what he deserves."

Casavir looked hard into my face. I could feel the tingling edge of his aura brush against me, searching for truth in my words, testing the strength of my conviction. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. "You strain every tenant I follow," he said to himself in a whisper. His eyes opened and fixed on me. "What do you wish of me?"

"I need you to protect Bishop."

"What?!" The word exploded out of both men at the same time.

"Just until we can get this cleared up. Many people lost family and comrades that night. There will be some who will try to kill him before we can explain."

"How about you explain it to me now." Casavir's voice was as tight as a drum. "Because I am having serious doubts to the state of your mental stability!"

"Come on holy man, I would think it would be clear to even one as dense as you."

I tightened my grip on Casavir's arm. "Bishop, how about you just shut up for now, eh?"

"The only thing that's clear is you're here with a man you obviously tortured and got to take the blame for you."

"You think so Cas? Really?" I tugged at his arm until he looked at me. "You honestly think Bishop would allow someone else to take credit for his work?"

"This is all a game to him. He's just trying to twist you around, to dig the knife in deeper."

"Why would he have come back?"

Casavir tore his arm out of my hands and clenched his fists. "How am I to understand a madman's actions? He probably did not relish the thought of being hunted for the rest of his life."

"Personally, I kind of like being hunted. The expression on the hunter's face when they realize that _they_ are the ones being hunted makes it all worth it."

I glared at Bishop. With him snipping at Casavir, it was going to be much harder to get the paladin to listen to me. I was starting to feel like I would much rather had just executed Gavin and let a dead-speaker get the truth from his lips. It would have been much easier than the conversation I was going to have to have.


	59. Chapter 59

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 59

It had taken a lot of explaining but I managed to get Casavir to believe me. He wasn't happy about it, but the thing that mattered was that he _believed._ Now it was time to truly see how far a logical argument would take me. While Casavir had the benefit of knowing if I was lying or not, the others didn't. Hells, it would be hard for _me_ to believe the tale I would have to tell them if it didn't make so much damn sense.

Bishop, agreeing on caution for once, pulled on a deeply hooded cloak that completely hid his features. I saw teeth flash in the shadow if the hood when he grinned, enjoying Casavir's obvious agitation and displeasure at all this. The paladin had wanted to heal some of Gavin's wounds, saying that the man had suffered enough under Bishop's care and keeping him in pain was an unnecessary cruelty. I had refused. Gavin's bloody form was an integral part of the story to be told.

Between Bishop and I, we managed to get Gavin hauled up to the main floor of the keep. Casavir followed in our wake, dissuading any guards from asking questions about the bloodied prisoner being dragged unceremoniously up from the dungeon. In passing I ordered one of them to have a bucket of cold water sent to the hall.

We dropped him face first on the stone floor. Bishop straightened and let the cloak's folds fall around him, covering his distinctive armor. For all intents and purposes, he was a faceless stranger. Within minutes Kana and all my companions were in the room with us. The guards had reported my movements, just as I suspected they would. It appeared that being spied on was finally having a use. As soon as everyone entered, they looked curiously at the man at my side.

Khelgar was the first to recognize the figure at our feet. "Gods, lass. That's Gavin! What did he do, come on to you too strong?"

I didn't smile at the joke. "No, not this time."

"What is the meaning of all this," Kana demanded.

"It appears we were wrong in our assessment of who opened the gates the other night."

"So you would have us believe that this one opened the gates?" Kana's face was slowly turning an unpleasant shade of purple. "I should have known you would try something like this," she hissed. "Sir Nevalle was right about you. You would do anything to protect those you call friend."

I gave her a politely questioning look, her anger not upsetting me in the least. After everything that happened tonight, Kana was the least of my worries. I didn't give a damn if she or any of Neverwinter's lackeys believed me. It would make it easier if they did, but the only people whose opinions truly mattered were the other group in the room with us.

"Bishop is a murderer," Kana growled. "You can't accept that so you beat a man nearly to death so that we would stop looking for your lover! What, did you pay this man to help you?" She gestured at the hooded Bishop.

My smile was coldly amused. "I _know_ that Bishop is a murderer. On that token, there are some who would call me one as well, or are you already forgetting Lorne Starling, the Luskan assassins, not to mention Ammon Jerro." She glared at me. No, she most definitely had not forgotten those names. My smile was now a baring of teeth, the warning display of a wolf. "But that's not why we're here right now. Why don't we wake up Gavin and ask _him_ what happened?"

"You've obviously done something to be so assured of his compliance. What was it, threatening his family?"

I could feel the smile growing even colder. "I may have been made a Knight of Neverwinter, but I never picked up that particular habit from my colleagues."

The cloaked man at my side laughed and all heads jerked to him. He tossed back his hood casually. Everyone stared at him, stunned. Within seconds, they all started forward, intent on bringing him down. He pulled his swords and his eyes sparked with eagerness. I looked to Casavir. "A little help please?"

He seemed torn for a moment, then his shoulders unstiffened slightly, almost slumped. "She's telling the truth," he said quietly. "Bishop was not the one who betrayed us in this matter. It is as she says."

Everyone stopped and looked at him. Kana threw up her hands. "Gods! She has you believing it as well? Are all of you fools? What powers does she hold over all of you to make you have so much faith when so much she does is wrong?"

A maid arrived with the requested bucket. She took one look at everyone's tense faces, set it down so swiftly that water sloshed over the sides, and turned to flee. I walked over to the pail and grabbed the handle. "Maybe they have faith in me because I've proven myself, unlike this one." With that, I dashed the entire contents of the bucket over Gavin's head. He came to spluttering.

After giving him a chance to clear the water from his face I gave him an icy smile. "Now. One more time."

*****

As soon as Kana started believing him, she had stopped glaring at Bishop and focused her glacial eyes on Gavin. He barely got a chance to finish speaking before she had an entire company of guards summoned and surrounding him. I watched as they dragged him out of the room and had remarked to Kana that that wasn't a good idea. She had ignored me but it turned out that I was right.

The next morning found him dead in his cell, ran through multiple times. Kana was furious, spouting off about low justice. She questioned all the men, but no one came forward and each man provided the other with an alibi. I could tell the ones who had done it though. Four men, each with a grimly satisfied look in their eyes, a look that I recognized from seeing in a mirror. I kept my own mouth shut. After all I had done, who was I to fault them their vengeance?

Nevalle came and I could hear furious words between himself and Kana behind closed doors. He left again without speaking a word to me, but that didn't surprise me. No one likes to admit they were wrong, particularly in a matter that caused them to lose their cool so completely. What did surprise me was that when he left, he had Gavin's body brought with them. I didn't ask questions, but I had an inkling of what they were planning and it left a foul taste in my mouth.

Making an example out of a dead man's corpse was never my style and a small part of me just couldn't let go of the fact that the corpse in question had once been a man I had, on several memorable occasions, known intimately. I would have killed him had he lived long enough for me to, but for as much as I hated him for what he had done, it would have been done with a certain amount of respect for what he once was to me. Teacher, lover, friend, enemy.

My own men were torn by Bishop's lack of betrayal. All were relieved to some extent or another that it wasn't one of us that caused so much destruction, though beyond that they weren't quite sure how to feel. Neeshka was happy for me and I think deep down for her. With what she had said about people expecting her to exhibit the same type of treachery, Bishop's innocence in this case was like a personal victory for her.

Some of the others were of the opinion that it was just a matter of time before it happened for real. They pushed at me to get rid of him. The harder they pushed, the more adamantly I refused. It got to the point where we were avoiding each other. Bishop seemed to be enjoying the strain he was causing in our little band so that got him added to the list of people I was ignoring.

I spent a lot of time with Sand down in his laboratory, watching him work on various experiments in an effort to create the something to hurt, if not destroy, the King of Shadows. Currently I was sitting on a workbench, my leg dangling over the edge, watching him thoughtfully.

"What about making something like a huge thunderstone?"

Sand didn't look up from the ingredients he was carefully measuring into a flask. "Of course my dear, why didn't I think of that? I shall make a giant thunderstone. If only I had known it was that easy I could have saved myself these past weeks worth of work and thousands of gold in materials."

I gave a mocking wince at his sarcasm. "Fine, I'll just sit here and not make suggestions."

"You do that."

Sand's movements were graceful and slow, his long fingers cradling reagents and flasks with more loving care than I had ever seen him use on a person. A bit from a small vial went into the flask and with a casual gesture, he lowered the magical heating flame till it was barely a blue ring. The potion bubbled and rolled, colors swirling in the glass container. "Now, if I'm right," he muttered to himself, "then a bit of the other potion will be just what this one needs. Kathrynn, hand me that potion bottle that's over there, would you?"

I looked dubiously at the vast array of potions on the opposite table, all different colors and viscosities. "Which one?"

"The green one."

"Which green one? There are five different color greens."

He sighed. "I could have gotten it myself in the time you are taking, but it is the lightest one."

I picked up a potion that was nearly chartreuse. There was something floating in its murky depths. I started to shake it to get it to come to the surface so I could see what it was just to have a cool hand clamp over my wrist. I looked into Sand's wide eyed, pale face. "Don't… Shake… Anything," he bit out. "Don't touch anything. You could have blown us both to bits!" Sand plucked the bottle from my hand and carefully took it to his workbench. "Now out!" He pointed back up the stairs.

I pouted but left. As soon as I got up the stairs and shut the heavy wooden door behind me there was an explosion. I spun around to rush back then was stopped by the steady stream of loud elven cursing. Sand was fine. Pissed, and maybe a little singed, but fine. I grinned and went off to find someplace else to hide.

*****

It took a few more weeks, but everything we were waiting for, Sand's weapon, the location of the King's stronghold, all of it started to fall into place. Late one night there was a quiet knock on my door and an exhausted looking Sand came in and placed a bundle of carefully wrapped thin glass vials on my desk. After he gave me some brief instructions I nodded once and ordered him to bed. I sat up all night after that thinking, a plan starting to form.

When the morning came I left the keep alone. I made my way to Waterdeep and consulting a list of names I had gotten from Sand, made several visits. Five days of bribes, threats, and a huge expenditure of cash and I had the items I came for.

The keep was bustling with activity when I returned. I looked around in confusion. Neeshka spotted me and ran up, her eyes shinning.

"They found it," she said excitedly.

"Found what?"

"His castle!"

My brows rose in surprise. "The Kings? Really? Where?"

"One of the scouts found it not far from here, in one of the ruins. It's so close you can actually see one of the non-toppled towers on a clear day."

"But we've been in that one before. There was nothing but bugbears in there."

She shrugged. "I guess he just recently took it over. The scout said there wasn't a bugbear to be seen so he went in for a closer look."

"Did he actually _see_ him?"

"No, but he _felt_ him." With what Gavin had said about being in the King's presence, I didn't doubt for a moment what the scout had meant. "When he came back he had Sand do a scrying and there is a big black dot over the place, blocking his view. Sand said only a great power could make anti-scrying spell that strong."

I thought furiously. I had wanted more time to prepare for my plan, but I wasn't going to get it. I had to move fast. I felt my head move in a decisive nod. "Let everyone know that one way or another, this is ending tomorrow. We will leave midmorning."

She nodded and ran off, excitement and a bit of fear practically making the air shimmer around her.

Dinner that night was a somber affair. Everyone was there, even Sand and Bishop. They all knew that this might be the last night we were all alive. Sand kept giving me odd looks and I had a sinking feeling that he knew what I was planning. Luckily he never said a word and no one other than Bishop seemed to pick up on it. As soon as dinner was done, I went to my room and prepared for what I had to do.


	60. Chapter 60

A/N: OK. So we are _almost_ done. Here's the deal. I've changed a lot of things in the story. The ending is different than the game. Completely. I beg that you keep that in mind while reading it. I truly feel though that my ending is in line with Kathrynn's personality. I would love to hear opinions on this chapter, good and bad, but like I said, please try and judge it as it relates to my story and not the game.

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 60

I had a plan. One that only I could carry out. One that should, with any luck, end with without killing them all. And if I failed, I had a backup plan that I had written out excruciating detail and left in my room. If they had to use the backup plan, they would most likely die and that thought made my heart hurt. If it came to that, the fact that I would be dead already and unable to feel the loss was no consolation.

Keeping to the shadows, I slipped out of the keep, the creak of every opening door causing my heart to slam against my chest. Silently I passed the doors to my companion's rooms, smiling slightly as I heard the rumble snork of Khelgar's snoring from three doors down. I paused for a moment in front of Casavir's rooms.

Come morning he would wake up early, complete his morning rituals, have a healthy breakfast and wait for the others to stumble out of bed. It was a routine he did every morning. I could picture it in my head I had seen it so often. There would be one change tomorrow though. When he waited for everyone to come downstairs, I wouldn't be there. He would wait a while, then come up and check on me. He would find me gone and though I liked to imagine that he wouldn't for a moment think so, I knew I had shaken his faith in me enough that some part of him for the tiniest second would think I had fled. Then he would see the note I left under my favorite dagger, read it quickly, and just as quickly assemble the group.

Neeshka would pick the lock on the chest I mentioned in the note and each person would take one of the weapons within, weapons that each hummed with magical energy. Someone would comment on how foolish my decision was but hopefully, they would also realize that my decision would give us not one, but two chances to win this war.

I gave the door and the man within a slight bow. While at the beginning of our journey together I didn't appreciate him, hells, at the beginning I didn't even like him much, over the past months he had proven to be a most loyal and steadfast friend. Nearly all of them had in fact, but Casavir in particular was like a steady island of calm in the turbulent sea that was my life.

The last door was Bishop's. I couldn't help the smirk that flicked over my lips. He was always sure that whenever we stayed anywhere, he got the room with the quickest escape route. I couldn't blame him really. He was a survivor and the ability to escape was one of the sure fire ways to keep on living. As I stared at the door I remembered what he had said at one time.

_We were sitting together at Duncan's tavern, drinking and idly talking. I couldn't stop thinking about the upcoming trial and asked him what his thoughts were._ My smirk widened as I recalled the dry look on his face and the slight surprise in his eyes that I actually asked him for advice.

'_Are you really asking me, or just making conversation?' His eyes flicked over me before coming to rest on mine. 'Because it seems to me that a lady like yourself might just be asking for the sake of asking. And trust me; I'll respect you a lot more if you admit that now rather than hearing my advice and ignoring it.'_

_I had muttered something about not respecting myself if I took everyone's advice and his face turned thoughtful as he considered me. Finally he said, 'True, I'm not one for doing everything people tell me either.' _I always knew that he was a good tracker, but it must have been in that moment that I saw the actual intelligence in his eyes for the first time and not just the cunning of a predator.

'_You know, if you don't want to deal with this, you and I could run. Find some hidden trail and camp, for a year or two.'_ I was sorely tempted at the time even as I asked him if he was offering or just making a snide comment. His voice had turned cagey and he shrugged noncommittally. _'I don't know. If it __**were**__ an offer, what would you say?' _My heart had jumped at the seductive look in his eyes, full of dark promise and in my mind I had pounced on him and gotten an early start on that "camping." What came out of my mouth though was a slow smile and something about not being able to keep me occupied for that long.

I was wrong about that. One night with him and I knew that he would be able to keep me occupied for a long, long time. I sighed and shook myself from my thoughts. If I didn't leave now, I never would. Each moment I delayed was another moment someone might wake and find me. Without realizing it, my hand had gone to the handle of his door and turned it slightly. I released it as if bitten. I kissed the tips of my fingers and softly pressed them against the solid wood. Without a backwards glance, I strode out of the keep and out to the forest beyond.

******

I tread carefully through the dense trees, eyeing my footing with far more care than normal. The last thing I wanted was to fall and break the volatile vials of murky fluid that I carried. Nervousness making me giddy, I laughed softly at myself for a moment. _I can just see it now, Kathrynn, the destined savior of Neverwinter falls on her butt in the middle of the woods, destroying all the surrounding landscape and killing herself in the process. The King of Shadows would hear the rumble from his stony fortress, shrug, and continue on with his dastardly plans. _

_By the gods, did I actually say dastardly??_

Still snickering slightly I suddenly paused as I felt eyes boring into my back. I stood stock still and waited for what I knew was coming.

"Well well, could it be that the brave Knight-Captain is running away from the battle?"

I shrugged and without turning, casually replied. "If I was running away, why would I be on the trail to the ruins?"

I heard a disgusted snort behind me. "You're a fool you know. You think that by getting yourself killed you would spare all of them? The Shadowman isn't going to stop when you're dead; he's going to keep coming till everyone falls."

"Is that why you're here ranger, to escape the slaughter?"

I heard the dry scrap of leather against bark as he leaned up against a tree. "Yeah, I was going to get out before it happened, but I then I saw a little thief sneaking through the hallways, doing something that looked strangely like saying goodbye. I decided to leave a little early and see what you were up to."

I was glad he was behind me still as my cheeks flushed hotly. "Ah… and just how long have you been following me?"

He chuckled his rusty chuckle, the mocking one, not the real one that I had heard only once before. "Oh, long enough to see some interesting things. Tell me, just what were you planning on doing if you opened my door?"

My thoughts were spinning, trying to think up something that wouldn't make me out to be a fool.

_Oh screw it. If I'm going to die then I won't need to worry about looking like a fool…_ I gingerly sat down my bundle and stalked over to him, watching his eyes burn brightly even in the faint moonlight. He never moved as I continued until there was a mere hairbreadth of space between us.

Quickly, so he didn't have a chance to react, I grabbed the collar of his armor and jerked his head down to mine. I captured his lips hungrily, poring every ounce of pent up desire, frustration and anger into the kiss. He responded in kind, one strong arm wrapping around my waist to haul me roughly against him. Bishop's hand gripped the back of my head firmly, pinning me in place. For once he wasn't wearing his gloves and the heat of his bare palm seared my scalp with delicious fire. The kiss was fierce and left us both panting when our swollen lips finally separated reluctantly several minutes later.

He didn't release me completely, but stroked a finger against what he knew was the extremely sensitive skin at the nape of my neck. He looked at me with hooded eyes. His voice was rough when he finally spoke. "There's still time to run kitten. We can disappear someplace where they could never find us."

I smiled wryly and brushed my fingertips over his cheekbones. "No matter where we go, the shadows will always be at our heels. We will always be hunted by one person or another. I don't know about you, but I'm not comfortable spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. Tends to put a damper on things"

His face hardened and he pushed me away roughly. "Then you're going to die," he said coldly, absolute certainty in his gaze. "I'm not staying around to be led like a lamb to the slaughter, so don't come looking for me when it all falls down around your ears."

I couldn't help the laugh and the impish smile that escaped me. "Bishop, somehow I seriously doubt anyone would confuse you with a lamb. You are quite clearly the wolf. Besides, I'm not planning on dying any time soon. My plan is to take out the bastard, go back to the keep to gather my stuff and then…"

"Then what?"

My grin widened. "That depends on you, wolfie."

His eyes narrowed dangerously. Still smiling, I leaned closer to him and slid my hands through his silky maple hair. Bringing his face to mine as if for a kiss, I whispered against his lips, "And then if you're still around and interested, I plan on doing very… very… naughty things to you." Making my point, I nipped his bottom lip hard and was rewarded by the groan he failed to hold back. I smiled inwardly. It appeared that one night together hadn't been enough for him either.

He reached for me as I pulled back and for a moment again I was extremely tempted to give in and forget about what I needed to do. I steeled myself and gently disentangled my body from his strong arms. I stepped back and took a good look at his face, memorizing it in case I was never to see him again. I let my eyes say what my lips could not, what my heart had just started to realize.

_I love you Bishop._

He read what was in my face better than I suspected. When his look turned wary, I sighed, realizing my mistake. Even if I were to win this fruitless war, he wouldn't be around now. I knew he would be gone as soon as I turned my back but I couldn't let myself risk him being hurt in coming battle. Taking a ring from my thumb, I grabbed his hand and slipped it over his little finger. "Promise me you won't take this off until this is over."

He looked down at his hand in mine and nodded once, slowly. He must have been able to feel the strong magic in it buzzing along his skin for when he looked back at me, his face was unreadable.

I allowed myself one last touch, fingers brushing ever so lightly over his lips. Strengthening my resolve I turned and gathered my bundle. With pain in my heart but without a backwards glance, I walked off to face my destiny.

******

The King was big. Bigger than I expected, I barely came up to his waist. His ego seemed to be just as big as well. He should have named himself Sir Talksalot, but I suppose a thousand years of imprisonment would make anyone kind of chatty. It was a fight to keep from rolling my eyes in exasperation as he went on and on. Why did I always have to fight enemies that felt the need to pontificate before trying to kill me? It was almost enough to make a girl hang up her sword.

"You were a fool to come here alone girl. Did you really think that you could stop me and save your friends? Know this mortal, I will destroy you and all you hold dear, the last thing you shall know is the fact that you couldn't save anyone, not even yourself."

_That's it skull head, I am __**SO**__ sick of hearing from you._

"Are you done yet? Because I have rather important plans for after I kill you, and I would really like to get this done with and get something to eat before hand." I grinned at death for a moment. "Because something tells me, I will need the energy to carry them out properly."

If a skull could glare, he would have been, upset that I was ruining his moment of triumph.

"Then let us end this mortal."

I pulled out the silver sword and leveled it at him. "Time to dance, big boy," I whispered. I had to time this perfectly. I had gotten here earlier and snuck around, eluding the guards and placing the little vials at strategic points. Sand had said that one vial would do what I wanted, but I wasn't taking any chances. The three vials left were cradled protectively in the loops on my belt that normally held healing potions. The healing potions were left behind. If all went according to plan, I wouldn't need them, one way or another.

He saw the shortsword and laughed. "Do you truly think your little weapon can do anything? No sword made of man can harm me." The room started to tremble as his hands began to weave the intricate spell to summon forth his demon lackeys. A ring of statues, the big ugly statues so favored by Illefarn, began to shimmer and glow eerily.

I smiled up at him. "Yeah, but no _man_ made this sword, fucker." With that, I rushed him. Feigning a slash to his thigh, I forced him to react and interrupt his spell. He began chanting again, and I landed a slice at his bony hip. The blade seemed to actually slow as it cut, as if it was struggling to get through some type of thick barrier. It was like trying to slash at someone underwater. The next wounds came easier. The next easier still. The sword was getting through his defenses. As his defenses weakened, I noticed from the corner of my eye the faint glow on the statues was getting brighter.

A crack in the ground opened up and the scent of brimstone filled the room. Deep red hands with talon like nails were visible at the edge of the opening. Something was clawing its way to freedom. I was running out of time. I thrust the sword into the King as high as I could reach. He swatted me like a bug, sending me soaring backwards. I twisted my body in the air, desperate to protect the fragile vials that had remained safely at my waist this entire time. I slid into one of the ugly stone statues that were erected around the circle. My shoulder took the brunt of the damage when I landed but the glass remained unbroken. When I hit the statue, I noticed that it was humming with power so strong it made my teeth ache and it was now pulsing with the unholy light.

I looked over to see the sword was still sticking out of the Shadowking's body. He hadn't bothered to remove it as he prepared another spell, one that would probably do horrible things to me. Now was the time. The sword would drain away the rest of his shields enough to let him be susceptible to what I was going to do.

I struggled to my feet and felt the manic grin stretch my lips. _I hope you were right Sand,_ I thought as I plucked the vials from my belt and threw the potions somewhere between me and him. They seemed to fly in slow motion, the glass turning end over end, glittering in the torch light. The vials reached their zenith and began the decent to the hard floor.

The potions exploded with a deafening bang, sending shockwaves of pure sonic force throughout the stone chamber. The waves hit us both and the King of Shadows, a being of nothing but bones, a bit of dried stretched flesh and magic, immune to all but the high pressure waves of sound, exploded into dust and sharp fragments of ancient skeleton. The stone statues that ringed the room's center started to crack open as the king's remains floated to the ground.

Since I had brought protection against it, my organs didn't immediately liquefy in the blast but I miscalculated one small part. I was no longer completely immune to the sonic waves and the very first one lifted me off my feet and threw me backwards. It felt as through a giant hand was squeezing my chest, trying to crush the life out of me. All around me, in different parts of the ruin, I feel the tremors of the other hidden vials being set off by the blast. I couldn't hear them though, I couldn't hear anything anymore. Luckily, I didn't have to much time to worry about it. My head hit a stone wall with a sickening thud and then the last thing I was aware of was the rumble and crash as the place started to cave in around me.

* * *

A/N: Worried? Well, we're not quite done yet.


	61. Chapter 61

A/N: Two more chapters to go after this one.

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 61

I was floating in blackness. It was actually sort of pleasant, kind of warm and snuggly and no pain could touch me. I vaguely heard a growling close to me, rumbling something I couldn't understand. Even with all the growling, the voice wasn't scary, in fact it was oddly comforting. A light touch brushed against what I took to be my forehead. I smiled to myself and let the darkness carry me away as the voice washed over me.

******

The growling was back and this time it was countered by a deep baritone. Both were somewhat familiar but I really couldn't make myself think to hard on it. The voices rose, shouting now, shattering my happy cocoon of peace. I winced and retreated.

******

The darkness faded and I was left staring into something red and yellow tinged.

_What is this? Oh… those would be eyelids. Wonder if they still work._

I carefully pried them open ever so slowly and cheered silently to my self.

_Hey, they work! _

_Why in the hells is it so damn bright in here? I kinda miss the darkness._

When my eyes finally adjusted to the bright light I looked around for a moment, trying to figure out where I was exactly. It was familiar but it took me a while to place it.

_Oh. I'm in the keep. I'm alive? How odd._

A shadow flickered in my peripheral vision. Stiffly, I moved a heavy head to see what it was. A man sat silhouetted on the window sill in the bright sunlight, one leg draped outside, the other tucked up near his chest, his fingers laced over his knee. He never turned to look at me, staring at something unseen out the window.

"You certainly took your damn sweet time to wake up."

I blinked slowly, trying to place him. When I didn't answer his head swung towards me. I could make out only one feature on his face. Bright amber eyes, so achingly familiar, glared at me from the shadows.

_Bishop._

"You're still here," I whispered hoarsely, my unused voice raspy and low.

The shadow shrugged. "I wanted to see if you would get yourself killed. Had to know what to tell Duncan so I can be free of that damn half-breed."

"So… will you be leaving now?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I might just stay and reap the rewards that are going to be piled on the '_Hero_' of Neverwinter once word gets around that you survived." He snorted humorlessly, and I thought I detected a small bit of bitterness in his words.

_Speaking of survival…_

"Bishop… How did I get out of there?"

He glanced away from me and was silent. Finally he spoke, anger clipping his words. "You thought you played me so well that I would follow you, didn't you? That's why you gave me the damn ring. You wanted me to come."

I sighed. "Actually Bishop, I didn't plan for _anyone_ to follow me. When you caught me in the woods… I couldn't… ah hells. I couldn't deal with the thought that you might get hurt, alright? I gave you the stupid ring because I wasn't sure how far the shock would travel."

I stopped abruptly. _That bastard was trying to distract me from my question._

"You never answered my question. How did I get out of that place in one piece?"

His face was set back into the mask he wore when he didn't want people to see his emotions. "I wondered if the great Knight-Captain could actually do it, or if she would give in like a weakling."

_Weakling!!!_

"So you followed me in, even after I told you to go. Well, at least we now know that ring was worth the coin spent on it. Do you have any idea on how hard it is to get custom magical items on a short notice? I didn't even know what those potions would do until a couple of days before I left."

"Yeah, it worked pretty damn well. I didn't feel a thing." His voice lowered to an angry growl and he slid off the window casing. "You would have been fine if you kept it on and you for damn sure knew that."

He strode to the bed and grabbed my shoulders painfully, coming very close to shaking me with each word. "What is it with you hero types that makes you lie down and die so someone else can live?!"

"I'm not a hero," I muttered.

"Then why?"

_What do you want me to say Bishop? Do you want my selfish reasons? That I knew we only had one chance and that one would have ended up with all of us dead? That I forged my own path so that I wouldn't have to deal with that loss again? That I had already lost everyone else in my life and I wanted to save them, save you even?_

_Or would you appreciate the practical idea that I knew my plan had a higher chance of succeeding than the direct assault he was expecting. Keep your enemy off balance, you always say._

In the end I just looked at him, taking in his face. It looked like he hadn't shaved in several days and his hair was messier than normal, as if his hands had spent a lot of time in it. Then there were his eyes. Anger made them flicker like flames. They were glaring at me so intently; I almost missed the dark circles under them and his hollowed cheeks.

I flushed and had to glance away. "You know why," I muttered quietly.

He gave a snarl of pure frustration and roughly pushed me back against the pillows. Without a backwards glance he stormed out the door, slamming it shut with a loud bang that rattled the furniture.

I stared at the ceiling, feeling warmth prick the back of my eyes. This past week on top of everything else had been too much for me. Only now, now that it was all over, I let the hot salty tears roll down my temples to splash on my hair.

Within moments after hearing the bang, Casavir rushed into the room. "Kathrynn! You are finally awake."

I cleared my throat before speaking. "That's what it looks like."

He came to sit in the chair that was posed next to my bed. Brushing my hair back off my forehead, he saw the shiny tracks on my face. Stiffening with indignation, his voice came out hard. "If that degenerate hurt you, I swear he will pay."

I cracked a small smile. "And just which degenerate are you speaking of?" When he was silent, I laughed softly. "If you're talking about Bishop, then no. If you're talking about skullface, I think the large knot on my head pretty well answers that. What is it with people and bashing my head in anyways? Do I have a large sign that says 'hit me here'?" Casavir looked as though he was hiding a small smile. "But anyways, it does feel like everything is healing up well. What happened exactly? I don't remember anything after his destruction."

A flicker of pain crossed his face as he thought back. "Four days past, we heard a loud boom and saw the top spires of the ruins crumble. We tried to find you and found your note instead. We were getting ready to set off after you when…" He halted as if searching for the right words. "Bishop… Bishop came back drenched in blood and carrying you. He said he had healed what damage he could, but that you were dying. Your skull was crushed and you had lost much blood."

"We healed you as quickly as possible, managing to close the wound and stop the bleeding, but you wouldn't wake up. No matter what we did, you just would not stir."

"How long was I out?"

"Today would be the fourth day."

I glanced at the chair where he sat. "It looks like I had company. Did the gith stay with me?"

Casavir looked unhappy and for the first time at a loss for words. "Ah… Actually it was Bishop. He never left your side. When questioned, he said that he had to make sure you lived so that he could be free of your 'damned drunk of an uncle' and that he was protecting his investment, so to speak."

He studied me closely, working up the courage to say his next words. "I once told you that I do not like the way he looks at you and that is still true. But the way you look at him... Please my lady, forgive what I am about to ask." His voice was calm and steady, yet tinged with something approaching pity. "Do you love him?"

I lay there blinking at him for a while. _Well, this most definitely wasn't the conversation I was expecting to have. What about asking me what happened? Or even how I feel? No, I get my second in command asking me about my heart._

"In my own way," I said at last. After everything, Casavir deserved an answer to that honest question. "It's not a soft warm feeling that one would normally associate with the emotion. I don't even think I'm capable of the soft warm version anymore. It's more of a feeling of connection that I get from him, that he understands me more than anyone else ever has."

He shut his eyes shook his head. Finally he opened them only to stare at the huge ugly headboard behind me. "He will hurt you, you know. He will take your heart from you, use it for a while, and then tear it to pieces, selling it to the highest bidder."

I opened my mouth to retort, but he continued on softly before I could interrupt. "Why is it you give your heart to a man who has no use or want of it, when there are others who would treasure it like the precious gift it is?"

He sighed, realizing he had said far more than he meant to. "Nay, pay no heed to my words my Captain. I… I am simply glad you are back with us. I did not mean to burden you with this, my apologies."

Standing, he stroked his hand over my cheek. "Sleep well Kathrynn. I wish you pleasant dreams."

His fingers were cool against my skin, and while it should have been comforting, the sense of finality that came with that light brush made a tiny part of my heart ache to think of what could have been.

I swallowed hard and called after him as he made for the door.

"Casavir?" When he turned to look at me I gave him a smile. "Thank you my friend."

He nodded in understanding and turned and left.

******

_Bishop sat in his own window sill, looking out into the bright moonlit sky. He fought with himself, one part demanding he leave now, this very night, the other demanding he stay. Never in his life had he been so divided over something. Normally if something got in the way of his focus, he would remove the distraction, and this time he hadn't. He cursed himself, thinking his life had been so much simpler before he had laid eyes on that cocky thief for the first time._

_Just the mere thought of Kathrynn brought back the vision of her, bravely standing there, a self mocking grin on her face, defiant to the last. As the King of Shadows crumbled forever into dust at her feet, her face was triumphant even as she flew backwards._

_From his hiding spot across the massive chamber, he heard the hollow thwack as her head smacked against solid stone. He had no time to think before everything started to fall into pieces around them, walls and heavy stone buttresses falling to the ground as the place caved in on its self. The softly glowing statues were hit one by one by chunks of stone. Each of them crumbled and toppled, the demonic light fading from them. He vaguely remembered dodging the falling debris to get to her. When he scooped her up, her body was completely limp and warm blood flowed freely down his arms. Mindless of the damage his rough handling might cause, he clutched her tightly to his chest and ran for their lives, dodging the pieces of architecture blocking their path and the ones heading determinedly towards their head._

_Into the cool night air he ran, never stopping, never pausing until they were deep in the forest and safely away from the ruins. Just as he stopped, he spun when a deafening roar came from behind him. He turned just in time to see the entire place fall, sending up a huge cloud of dust and debris. The ground shook beneath his feet._

_Turning from the sight and panting heavily, he set his bundle down carefully on the ground. With quick yet careful movements he had felt her body, looking for any other injuries. Two broken arms and what felt to be a shattered pelvis where the least of the injuries. He gently cradled her head, trying to determine the extent of the damage there. The painful hand that had tightened around his heart when he first watched her fly clenched into a tight fist. The entire back of her skull was misshapen. Blood matted her hair in thick clumps. The bones that should have been solid gave under his probing fingers slightly before springing back, pushed by the spongy material beneath._

_The next few minutes were a blur, but he could remember dragging up the very elementary lessons in healing he had been taught. For an extremely brief moment he actually wished he had a deity to grant him a stronger spell. A weak blue light came to his hands and the some of the bones fused themselves somewhat, but the blood continued to flow freely. He knew he had to get her back the gith at the keep and as much as it grated that he had to depend on someone else for anything, he did._

_Every step back was agony for them both. His cold heart tugged at every wince, every soft noise of pain she made in her unconsciousness. His mind had settled back into a primal state, taking in all his surroundings, and potential dangers. The human part of his brain was too occupied to even recognize that he was still so aware. It was to focused on the delicate woman in his arms. His mind was no longer filled with the swirling anger that normally lived there, but something else, something he hadn't felt since he was sold to the Luskan army as a child so long ago. He had only vaguely recognized it as fear and desperation._

_He growled low in his throat. Now that her life was certain, the worry faded only to be replaced by the anger he was used to. She made him weak, made him question everything he knew. He __**had**__ to get away from her._

_His eyelids grew heavy. It had been four days since he slept last, four days and nights of sitting by her side, whispering random threats and, at one particularly weak moment, promises, waiting for her to awake. He sneered at himself, thinking about how pathetic he had been then. Every instinct cried for him to flee while he could, to disappear into the life he had always known, but he had been too weak. He couldn't force himself to leave her side._

_As he lay down in the bed, he told himself that he was still there because he wanted a chunk of the reward that was coming. The lie didn't sit well in his mind, but it was still better than the alternative._


	62. Chapter 62

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Chapter 62

It took several days for me to regain my strength and energy. Each time I left my room on shaky legs and with a dizzy head, I would look for him, fearing that he was gone, and every time he was nowhere to be seen. Logically, I should have reasoned he had left already, but my heart knew differently. There were times in the night that I would sense eyes on me as I slept. I would awake occasionally and see a slight movement in the shadows, or if it was a particularly cold night, I would wake to find extra blankets covering me.

Although he was still here, meals weren't quite the same without his presence. Everyone chatted happily, the dark shadow that was over our heads for so long was finally gone and everyone wanted to revel in life. Amidst the joyful voices, I was silent, searching ever dark corner for some hint of those wolf eyes. Now that everything was over and I was getting better, I was starting to feel at a loss of that to do with myself. The goal that had driven me for so long had been reached and I was thinking that it was time for me to make new plans.

A tap came on my shoulder. When I turned, Kana was standing over me, a large smile on her face.

"Knight-Captain, there are visitors eagerly awaiting your presence in your office. If you would come meet them, it would be most appreciated." The distaste that normally flavored her words whenever she spoke to me was absent. In fact she seemed genuinely pleased.

I rose to follow her, wondering at what caused her normally grim mouth to be twisted in such a happy smile. She led me to my office and opening the door with great flourish, she waved me through, shutting it softly behind me. I could hear her stern orders to the outside guards that no one was to come near the door until I came out.

I glanced around the room, taking in the two heads, one blond, one grey, that rose above the soft leather chairs. "Lord Nasher, Nevalle. Nice of you to come see me," I said carefully, hoping they didn't have some other mission already planned for me. Both men took to their feet, and to my great surprise, bowed to me, long and deep.

"My lady, you have done a heroic deed, one that will never be forgotten," Nasher said with a warm smile. "I have come to reward you as befitting a faithful Knight and protector of the land."

I groaned inwardly. I knew I was due a reward but Nasher's gifts never came without a cost, and quite frankly, I was tired of paying it. The last thing I wanted was to be bound tighter to Neverwinter. Strolling casually to my desk, I hopped up on it; sitting comfortably perched on its edge. Nevalle's eyes widened at my breach of protocol and I gave him a razor edged smile.

He ignored the warning in my smile and gave me a kindly one in return. "For your most loyal and humble service, there are many things that are due to you. This keep is now permanently your reward and your responsibility. It is yours to administer and to protect. There is a hereditary title to go with it as well. You and your progeny shall be true members of the nobility."

I winced. Progeny? Not bloody likely.

He noticed my grimace. "The idea of children to carry on your bloodline displeases you?"

"Can't honestly say I'm the mothering type."

"Well, perhaps if you met the right gentleman you would change your mind. With your new title and status as hero, you could have your pick of any of the nobles at court."

That got my eyebrows up. Something about the look in Nasher's eye though told me that he already had a stud in mind for this particular stable. That part definitely fell into the realm of 'never going to happen'.

"But no matter the decision you make with your personal life, as I said, the Keep is yours in perpetuity. Along with that, you shall receive a yearly pension and all the tax income-"

A pension? I wasn't even thirty yet and he wanted to give me a pension. It was time to stop him before this went any further, though I wasn't sure how much further it could go. Nasher telling me to lay down my sword and become a broodmare for the next line of little lordlings was pretty much the end of the road as far as I was concerned. I interrupted. "Look Nash, all the gold and the title and stuff sounds nice, but I'm done playing your games. I want something else from you."

His face never changed, but there was a lightning quick flash of disapproval in his eyes. "Do you wish for more?" he asked slowly.

My smile widened, I was most definitely starting to enjoy his uncertainty. "Less. Much, much less in fact. I request a few simple favors, things that are easily within your power."

His face remained stoic, but his gaze was wary. Nevalle spluttered angrily. "I told you she would be like this."

"Oh, stuff it Nevalle. After all this time, all the crap you people have put me through, all the threats you've made me listen to, I think I deserve to be heard."

"What is it you request then?" Nasher asked, his lips twitching at the corners to see his faithful knight turn bright red and sit down quickly.

I leaned back on my hands, my grin becoming cocky. "Well to start…"

******

I lay awake in bed, well pleased with myself. They would honor my requests, and the grinding of Nasher's teeth made me all the more glad with my decision. He had actually thought I would lay down complacently in the bed he had planned for me. In the darkness, I smirked to myself. For some reason, there was something exhilarating about thwarting such a powerful man, especially one who thought he controlled me.

I snorted softly, _Yeah, as if any man could control me, especially a manipulative one with grey hair. I would give him a stroke within a tenday._

Most of the favors I had asked for were for others. They deserved it after all they went through for me. As of late tomorrow evening the keep would be given to Casavir and Khelgar. I knew they would be honored by the gift in a way I never was. They could make it into something great. Neeshka would be pardoned from all her past crimes and Sand would be out from Neverwinter's thumb. Qara was to be given a clean slate, all the problems she caused while at the academy was to be forgiven. Zhjaeve would get her fondest wish and would be able to go back to her home world. Grobnar… Well, the little bard was the hardest to figure out what to get for him. In the end, I made Nasher promise to get him anything he wanted and knowing Grobnar, that could be either the easiest or the hardest request that Nasher agreed to.

The best part of all and the only thing I asked for myself was the part that upset Nasher the most. After tomorrow night, I would cease to exist. No one would be able to call on me or force me to do anything for them ever again. Not that there was much leverage to force me with anyway. All my shackles were gone.

Comforted by the thought, I snuggled deep in my covers and made as if to fall asleep. Though my eyes were shut in peaceful 'slumber,' every other sense was wide open; waiting for what I knew would be coming.

I didn't have to wait long before a light breeze drifted over me and I sensed movement in the dark. I tracked the nearly inaudible sound carefully, waiting till it came to a stop over near the small table and chair that sat across the room.

My eyes opened slowly and I smirked into the darkness. "Now, now Bishop, you're getting sloppy. I could hear you coming a mile away." When no sound came out of the darkness, I untangled myself from the furs and strolled to my dresser. Lighting a candle, I began running a brush through my hair. I could see him in the mirror, just sitting there watching me. His eyes flickered over my body, drinking in shadows caused by the flickering candle through the thin silk nightshift that I had gotten especially for this occasion.

"Does your offer still stand?" I asked casually, watching him closely.

His voice was deeper than normal and it seemed hard for him to bring his eyes up to meet mine in the glass. "And just which one are you talking about?"

"The one about getting the hell out of here, finding a hidden trail and eh... _camping _for a few years."

Leather rustled as he shrugged, "If it did, what would you say?"

Setting the brush down, I walked over to him slowly, swaying my hips invitingly. "That I want to leave tomorrow." I stopped in front of him waiting patiently for his answer. It was hard though, I could feel his eyes like a burning caress over my body. My heart began to quicken as I waited for his next words.

He licked his lips and looked me in the eyes, trying to judge if I was serious. "What's wrong with tonight?"

"Oh," I said offhandedly, "I have other plans for tonight." His eyes narrowed with irritation momentarily before widening as I sat down in his lap, my chest rubbing against the hard leather armor. My shift rode up as I straddled him, leaving my thighs bare. "Remember what I said in the woods before I left?"

His eyes flashed hungrily and his hands came up to cup my backside. He hauled me further up his lap until every inch of my body was pressed against him. He paused, waiting for me to continue. The heat of his body and his scent was maddening. It took all my willpower not to start moving against him them and there.

Twining my arms around his neck, I leaned down to his ear, my voice breathy. "The night won't be long enough to travel in after I'm done with you." I pushed my hips forward, rubbing against the quickly growing bulge in his pants.

His breath caught and I took the opportunity to run my tongue along the edge of his ear. Nibbling his tender lobe I whispered, "Because like I said, I plan on doing very, very bad things to you ranger." I punctuated each word with a grind of my hips, breathing hotly into his ear the entire time.

His fingers tightened almost painfully on my backside, pressing me hard against him. My mouth wandered down the side of his face, nipping lightly when I reached his lips. A moan escaped him and he broke free from his iron like self control. Trapping my mouth with his, he stood, bringing me with him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, reveling in burning passion in his eyes as he laid me out on the bed. "Bishop," I managed to whisper before his mouth and body covered my own. There were no words after that in the flickering light of the candle, just the whimpers and moans that told their own story.

******

I awoke in the early morning hours to find legs tangled with mine and an arm draped over my waist, holding me to the strong chest at my back. My body was filled with a delicious soreness. Bishop had not been gentle, nor did I want him to be. We both wore marks of passion, angry red welts covered his back and I knew without looking that there would be several rings of teeth marks on my neck and chest.

The hand on my belly crept up to cup my breast, a thumb idly flicking over my nipple. I felt a light scrapping of teeth over the back of my neck and I shivered in response.

"So, what do you think about hiding in bed from the world today and heading out at nightfall?"

He gave a masculine rumble. "You think you could keep me entertained all day?"

Instead of answering, I wriggled my backside against him and felt his body immediately respond.

"Yeah, I think I might be able to manage that."

"Temptress," he growled, rolling me over to face him.

I smiled innocently at him and stroked a finger over his lips as he slid a hand over my hip and hooked my thigh over his waist.

The though of disappearing together made me feel a freedom that had been missing all my life. Even in West Harbor there were constraints on me. Now all the shackles had been thrown off and I was truly and utterly free. Bishop was probably the only person who could appreciate that as much as me. We could travel the world, moving from place to place as the whim took us until we got bored of each other.

As Bishop moved against me, I gazed into the fire of his eyes and knew that boredom was something that we never needed to worry about.


	63. Chapter 63:Epilogue

Disclaimers: Same thing that everyone else says applies here. Language, Violence, Naughty Bits, blah blah blah.

* * *

Epilogue

_Sand was restless again. Ever since Kathrynn had destroyed the King of Shadows, his nights were never easily surrendered to his reverie. He had taken to walking along the keep walls, looking out over the surrounding land while he tried to think of where he was to go next. The fight had been so long and so consuming he was frankly at a loss of what to do with himself._

_He knew Kathrynn would always allow him a home at the keep, but the idea of staying around humans for years, watching them grow old and die was unappetizing to say the least. Perhaps it was time for a change. Waterdeep was lovely this time of year, and as a bonus he would be out of Nasher's reach for the first time in many years._

_Yes, a change is most definitely in order. No more annoying tieflings, loud dwarfs, or angsty paladins who were severely lacking a sense of humor. And most importantly, no more hot headed sorceresses that made his fingers itch with the desire to disintegrate her._

_He would miss the thief through. The dear girl was the only one at times who seemed capable of providing him intelligent conversation. Although, every time he went somewhere with her, he ended up having to check to see if he soiled his robes. He mimicked her voice in his head. 'Sand, lets go play with a dragon! Sand, lets poke this huge adamantine golem and see what it does! Sand, wouldn't it be fun to stroll into the middle of an orc settlement?'_

_Maybe it was a good idea he escaped before girl got bored and came up with some new suicidal plan, like stealing Elminster's pipe or Dove's harp. Just for a laugh of course…_

_He leaned against the cool stone crenellation and glanced down at the road, absentmindedly making his plans. His keen elven eyes caught a movement down below and he made out the shapes of two people walking towards the path that led away from the keep. _

_A sharp whistle pierced the night and a huge wolf bounded out of the trees to jump on the taller man. Sand shook his head while he watched it play like a puppy that missed his master. The man was knocked to the ground and kept pushing the animal away to try and get up, only to be knocked back down by heavy paws on his chest._

_The shorter figure was doubled over and he could very faintly hear the peal of Kathrynn's laughter. Finally standing, the man swept her into a rough embrace. His lowered head cut off her laughter like a knife._

_For a long while Sand stood there in the cool night air watching the couple gets smaller and smaller until they disappeared completely into the dark. Sand allowed himself a small smile before rearranging his face back into its normal dry expression. He suddenly winced. 'By the gods, I hope Casavir doesn't come looking for me… There is nothing worse than seeing a blubbering man in plate armor looking for comfort. _

_Perhaps I should whip up some invisibility potions…_

---Six years later---

_Sand sat in his little shop in the merchant's quarter of Waterdeep. The past several years had proven fruitful for him and now he owned one of the most affluent magic shops in the city._

_The bell over the door rang, and he looked up from his dusty tome to see two cloaked and hooded figures walk in. He groaned at being pulled away from such fascinating reading, and who wouldn't? The mating rituals of the __Otyough__ were such an interesting subject._

_Plastering on his merchant's smile, he walked over to greet them. As he drew near, he paused. There was something familiar about these people, something he couldn't quite place. And there was something about the man especially that made him incredibly uneasy._

_Luskan assassins?_

_The man stood protectively over the smaller female, menace radiating off of him in waves. A bow was slung over his back, the wood shiny from much use. Sand stopped several yards away, all nerves alive and a protection spell ready on his lips. _

_The woman stepped forward, her face hidden from him in the shadows of the deep hood, and set a paper wrapped bundle down on his counter. Without a word, she inclined her head at him and wrapping her arm comfortably around the man's waist, they both left as silently as they arrived. _

_He waited a few moments, making sure they were actually gone before approaching the package cautiously. Using a dagger that he had specially made to look for traps or harmful spells, he carefully slit the paper and slid the wrapping off. His eyes sprang wide open when he read the ancient, nearly forgotten language on the cover of the book inside._

_Abandoning all caution, he locked up his shop and grabbing the tome, very nearly sprinted to his office. At least he managed to sprint with as much dignity as he could muster…_

_Quickly lighting candles, he set the book down on his desk. He sunk down into his chair and simply stared at the tome for several minute. Finally, with trembling fingers he carefully opened the front cover and flipped the through a few pages. It was as he thought. The book was in ancient draconic and contained spells that were thought lost thousands of years ago. He let out a shaky breath that he didn't realize he was holding and stroked the pages like a man would stroke a woman._

_Noticing a bulge toward the center of the book, he flipped to it to find a folded note stuck in between the ancient pages._

_Sand,_

_Sorry about that time with the dragon._

_It took me a while but I think I finally  
__found something to make up for the  
__robe a bit._

_~K~_

_He stared at the note, rereading it several times as a grin spread over his face. At long last, the siren's call of the tome in front of him tore his attention away from the small scrap of paper, and with pleasure evident on his face, he began to read._

* * *

A/N: And that's it. We're done. It's been quite a ride and I would like to thank all the people who took the time to drive it with me. Feedback of both kinds is always much appreciated!

I am working on something new now that this is done so if your interested, please see my profile.


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